Absolved
by ColoradoMFC
Summary: This is part 3 of my trilogy  after Condemned & Heads I Win . It will stand alone, but may be a richer experience if read after the others. Takes place just after Elephants Memory & deals with Reid's drug dependence issues.
1. Chapter 1

***Fair Warning: This story will eventually contain spanking of an adult! I won't warn you again.***

**I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.**

**This chapter is dedicated to Lisa's continued health and happiness. I'm not exactly sure when you'll get to go home, but I wanted this waiting for you when you did.**

**XOXOXOXOXO**

_Life loves to be taken by the lapel and told: "I am with you kid. Let's go." ~Maya Angelou_

The young agent was utterly silenced by the disappointment that registered on Hotch's face. He had known all along that he should give up the vial of dilaudid to him, but the container had betrayed him in the end by rolling out of his bag while he slept on the jet back to D.C. Now his boss was requiring answers, and nothing he could offer sounded the least bit justifiable even to Reid's ears.

Judging by the young man's reaction, Hotch had come to the correct conclusion that the liquid inside was indeed dilaudid. He changed his demand to, "Is there more?"

"No! No, Sir, that's the only one," Reid answered with an abashed whisper. Eyes wide, he studied his boss' face, hoping he would be believed.

Hotch restrained himself from tearing into Reid at that very moment. The rest of the team, which had been sleeping on the long return from Seattle, was slowly beginning to stir as the jet made its descent. Quietly, he said, "We'll discuss this after we land." He pocketed the vial and stalked to a lone seat where he could think and still keep an eye on his troubled young agent.

Suddenly left alone, Reid numbly buckled himself into the seat he occupied and wrapped his arms protectively around his midsection. He knew he was in a lot of trouble and that he'd better have some good answers for Hotch when the discussion began, but he honestly couldn't think of anything valid. How many times over the last couple of days had he told himself to hand it over? Definitely enough to have known better. The only point in his favor at this moment was that he had never actually used the drug. Certainly he had come close a few times, but he had never given into its pull.

Chewing at his lower lip, he risked a timid glance at Hotch who sat in his direct line of sight. What he saw made his eyes prickle with the tears that now threatened. Hotch sat rigidly, staring at the back of the seat in front of him. Feeling the young man's eyes on him, he turned his head slightly to make eye contact. The message Reid received from that glance was one of deep disappointment. Unable to stand the feeling of failure, he dropped his eyes immediately and held his breath to keep the tears from falling.

Minutes later, they were on the ground and slowly taxiing down the tarmac. As they gathered their belongings, J.J., Prentice and Morgan were all talking about meeting for drinks tonight. "Rossi, why don't you join us?" Morgan asked.

Rossi was distracted by Hotch distancing himself from everyone. He absently responded, "Yeah. That sounds good. Let me know."

Morgan's eyebrow cocked at the odd reply, and he followed Rossi's gaze toward Hotch. Now he was concerned too. Looking down, he noticed Reid's detachment as well. He wondered what had happened, but decided against investigating with the rest of the team around.

The jet finally came to a full stop. Morgan opened the door for the team, offering his hand to J.J. and then Prentice as they exited. He looked back and saw the quick nonverbal exchange between Rossi and the team's leader. Hotch gave his patented "everything's fine" nod of reassurance. Rossi didn't look convinced, but seeing a distressed young doctor still plastered to his seat, he figured Hotch had some business to take care of. Making a mental note to check in with Hotch later, he turned and headed for the door.

Morgan waited patiently for Rossi to leave before moving back into the cabin. He wasn't at all certain if he needed to be there right now, but decided he had earned the right to at least know what was going on. His boss continued his stern gaze in Reid's general direction. "Hotch?" Morgan asked everything with that one word.

Without taking his eyes off of Reid, he tightly responded, "Morgan deserves to know, don't you think?"

Morgan moved slightly so he could see Reid's face. The younger man's head was bowed, he was picking at his fingernails and his knees were bouncing. In response Reid slowly, almost tragically, nodded his head, but he didn't say anything. The jet was silent. The older agents waited for Reid to say what needed to be said.

He tried to find the words. Really, it was quite simple, but actually saying it was nearly impossible. Reid opened his mouth to make an attempt at the words, but soon shut it again without a sound.

Morgan was growing extremely worried and impatient now. How could anything the kid had to say be that bad? To help his young friend along, he moved himself between the two men, directly in front of the struggling doctor. "Hey, look at me," he ordered.

Reid's movements froze. If anyone could and would drag the confession out of him, it would be Morgan. Quickly clamping his eyes shut to clear away any tears, he swallowed, and then raised his head. He still couldn't look the older man directly in the eye, but managed a reluctant gaze through his eyelashes. Licking his lips, he tried again, "I-aaa-I'm really sorry, Morgan." Damn! Why couldn't he just say it? He dropped his eyes in defeat and shame.

Frustrated now, Morgan turned to their boss for answers. "What's going on, Hotch?" he demanded.

Locking eyes with Morgan, Hotch simply turned his fist over and opened his hand to reveal the vial of dilaudid.

Morgan was incensed, "Is that what I think it is?"

His voice was loud and his tone sharp. Reid flinched and wrapped his arms tighter around himself.

Morgan turned on Reid, "Answer me!"

Without taking his eyes off his knees, Reid frantically nodded his head. He started to sniffle but could say nothing.

The older agent could see he was frightening his young friend. He almost didn't care, but he pulled back his fury ever so slightly with the next questions, "Where did you get it? How long have you had it?" He felt Hotch approach behind him. Morgan vaguely wondered if he was there for the answers or if he was there to protect Reid from him. Probably a little of both, he decided.

Reid desperately wanted to run away. Because he couldn't, he raised his head and blurted out, "I didn't use any, okay!"

Morgan and Hotch looked down at Reid's now tear-stained face and tormented eyes. Seeing the effect he had had, Morgan backed down feeling mildly guilty. Hotch softly said, "Sit down, Morgan," and indicated the seat facing Reid.

With his remaining frustration, Morgan huffed down into the chair letting Hotch take over. Continuing to stand, Hotch began, "Reid, we're both relieved that you didn't use, but the fact remains that you had the drug in your possession. We specifically talked about what you would do if you felt tempted at all. You didn't follow through with our agreement."

Reid swallowed and sincerely squeaked out, "I'm sorry, Hotch. It won't happen again."

Neither of the older men was buying it. "Why didn't you tell one of us?" Hotch wanted to know.

"I-I don't really know," was the timid reply, "I wanted to, but I couldn't." Reid returned to studying his knees.

Calmer now, Morgan asked, "What did you think would happen if you told us, kid?"

Reid didn't want to answer that. He didn't want to face the truth. Frustrated, and feeling trapped, he leaned his head against his seat, looked up at the ceiling then out the window. The older agents waited patiently for an answer. Reid sighed and said, "I don't know. Nothing, I guess, but you'd be disappointed and I wouldn't have the dilaudid if . . . ," he swallowed hard, and finished with a whisper, ". . . if I needed it."

There was a feeling of relief now that the truth was coming out. Hotch decided he should deal with this at home, "Okay, Spencer." He watched with satisfaction as his use of Reid's first name shocked the kid into making eye contact, "before we go, I'd like you to answer Morgan's questions. Where did you get it, and how long have you had it?"

Reid's eyes moved from Hotch to Morgan and back to Hotch again. He didn't want Hotch mad at Morgan, but he was afraid this might do it. As he answered he nervously went back to playing with his fingers, "I know a guy . . . he – he works out of the back of this bar not far from my place." He dropped his eyes to his lap as he finished, "right across the street from the dry cleaners." He risked a glance up at Morgan to see if he made the connection.

Indeed, he had. Without pause, the older man was furious again, "Are you telling me you were able to get the dilaudid in the three minutes it took me to pick up my laundry?"

Reid was suddenly afraid Morgan might reach out and strangle him right then and there. He chewed his bottom lip as his brow furrowed. In answer he nodded his head guiltily, "I'm really sorry, Morgan. I didn't plan it, I swear. I hardly knew I was doing it when it happened."

Pointing a finger at the young man's chest, Morgan demanded, "So, what? Now you're not responsible for your own actions?"

The younger man was shocked by the attack. He had no idea how to answer that. Of course he believed he was responsible for his own actions. For that matter, he generally believed he was responsible for everything bad that happened around him. He couldn't find the words to explain what had happened to him that day, but he truly felt he didn't have control at that moment.

From above Morgan and Reid heard Hotch's inflection again become uncompromising, but they were both startled at who it was directed toward, "Morgan. Can I talk with you for a moment?" The younger agents knew this was not a request, but an order.

Morgan was annoyed at having his tirade interrupted, but he respected his boss too much to argue. He followed Hotch to the door of the jet. With a worried expression, Reid turned to watch them go, but he knew better than to move out of his seat.

Hotch positioned Morgan and himself out of Reid's line of sight before beginning. In his most accusatory tone, he asked, "You left him alone?"

Morgan had done everything for that kid. He got him out of danger, took care of him when he was sick and listened to him like a big brother should, so he was stunned when Hotch turned on him like this. He became immediately defensive, "Hotch, you can't seriously be blaming me for this! Reid made the decision to buy those drugs, not me!"

Unexpectedly, Hotch's tone returned to normal, "Good. Remember that, Morgan. I don't want you blaming yourself for this. I need you to be strong for Reid right now, and if you're feeling guilty about his actions, you're not going to be any good to him."

Morgan felt like he'd been hit by a truck. It was unlike Hotch to play games, but he understood why he'd done it. Morgan always blamed himself when Reid got hurt. Hotch made him stand up for himself before he could even start feeling guilty. It was things like this that reinforced Morgan's respect for his boss. He gave a nod of understanding, and Hotch guided him out the door. The senior agent needed to handle the rest of this on his own.

XOXOXOXO

Hotch drove with one eye on his youngest agent. Reid was certainly nervous about their impending discussion. Hotch watched him squeeze his hands together over and over. It was ten minutes into their drive before Reid got up the nerve to ask his first question. "Are you angry with Morgan?"

Hotch heard the pleading within the question, "No. I'm not. This wasn't his fault."

Reid flinched. This was completely his fault. Suddenly, he desperately wanted to escape the vehicle. He felt so ashamed. His mind raced with possibilities for a getaway, all of which would either hurt or kill him. And if he managed to survive, Hotch would kill him anyway. He needed to calm down and think. Staring out the window at the passing road, he realized what he really wanted right now. Taking a shaky breath, he quietly admitted, "Hotch, I – I want a hit."

Hotch simply laid a hand on the young man's exposed neck. He said nothing until they arrived at his apartment. Cutting the engine, he slid his hand to Reid's shoulder and gently squeezed. "I'm proud of you for not taking the drugs." Reid looked up at his boss in surprise, "You had ample opportunity to use in Seattle. It says a lot that you didn't. I know you're hurting right now, but we'll get through this together. Okay?"

Reid swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly nodded his head in the affirmative.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

**Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed! Please, please, please review. Why do you make me beg?**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.**

**XOXOXOXOXO**

Minutes later Reid found himself alone in Hotch's stark guest bedroom. He dropped his bags on the dresser and sighed heavily. He had really hoped never to find himself in this situation again, but here he was, about to be punished like a child. He knew he deserved it, but he also knew it was going to hurt. He could handle the physical pain, but the emotional pain of knowing he had let Hotch and Morgan down was eating at him. As he sat on the bed and thought about this, unconsciously he began to rock. He wrapped one arm around himself, the other he used to bring his hand to his face. Realizing what a deep disappointment he must have been, he automatically began to gnaw at his fingernails. His craving for an escape grew the more he thought about what a huge failure he had been.

Looking at his watch, Reid realized he had only been sitting there for about 10 minutes so far. There was no telling how long Hotch would leave him here to think. His skin was beginning to crawl. Suddenly, he jumped to his feet and began to pace about the small bedroom. Spiraling ever deeper into his self-hatred, his breath became shallower. He was starting to feel dizzy. Wildly, he thought about sneaking out of the room and trying to find the small vial Hotch had confiscated. He hadn't heard Hotch moving around at all. Maybe he was outside, or maybe he had even gone out. Was there a chance he could even find the dilaudid? Reid softly padded across the small room, pressed his ear to the door and waited. Silence. Some rational part of his brain reminded him that Hotch wouldn't leave without letting him know first. The louder, frightened part told him it was worth a shot if it meant he might be able to find the vial before Hotch caught him.

Again he looked at his watch. Time was moving so slowly. He had only been alone for 15 minutes now, but he couldn't stand it anymore. Ever so carefully, Reid cracked the door open, held his breath and looked out. From this vantage point he could see into the bathroom and Hotch's bedroom across the hall. Cautiously stepping out into the hall, he peered around to the small office next to his bedroom. There was no trace of the older man. Quickly, he moved into Hotch's bedroom and scanned the area for the vial. He didn't have the nerve to open the drawers, but he did venture into the master bathroom just in case. Having no luck, he repeated the process in both the office and the main bathroom. Still, he found nothing.

Standing in the middle of the hallway now, Reid stared at the living room. It too seemed empty. Slowly, silently, he made his way toward it. Reaching the apex, he almost didn't dare to enter, but the thought of returning to the bedroom brought on another wave of panic. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward. Quickly he looked over the bookcases and shelves, never truly believing Hotch would leave the vial here.

Having no luck and running out of places to try, the young agent glanced worriedly in the direction of the dining room. That was the last possible room, well that and the attached kitchen. Desperate now, he turned the corner, and froze.

Hotch, now in jeans and a cream colored sweater, was sitting at the table with several books spread out in front of him. He held one open as he glanced up curiously at his young charge. "Spencer? What's the matter? Why did you leave the bedroom?"

Hotch really was interested, but if Reid couldn't produce a viable answer, he would be angry. "I – I –aaa-I was . . ."

Clearly, the young man had no valid excuse. Hotch was on his feet before Reid could produce another syllable. He took Reid by the elbow, and guiding him back to the bedroom, said, "I told you to stay in this room until I came for you. When I give you an order, I expect to be obeyed. Is that clear?"

They were standing at the opening to the room, but Reid had not yet stepped inside, "Y-yes Sir." He was on the verge of tears, so he didn't say another word. He simply stepped inside and turned to watch Hotch close the door on him. There was a vice gripping at his chest now. Breathing was nearly impossible. Sinking to his knees at the foot of the bed, he rested his forehead on the mattress and tried to calm his breathing. He had no idea what was wrong with him. As he tried desperately to breathe, thoughts of failure circled in his mind. Hotch couldn't even stand the sight of him. That's why he was closing him away like this. The young man didn't notice when the tears started to fall, but when the wracking, uncontrollable sobs began he immediately grabbed a pillow to bury the sound.

Still confused by Reid's actions, Hotch continued standing outside the door trying to work out why the young man would be wandering around the house when he knew better than to leave this room. It didn't make sense. Reid knew he would be in even deeper trouble if he left the room, so why do it? The idea crossed the senior agent's mind that Reid was trying to gain some control by coercing Hotch into starting his punishment now instead of making him wait. If that were the case though, Reid would more likely have presented an angrier disposition. No, the young man had been 'looking' for something. He had to know he would run into Hotch at some point.

The distinct sound of muffled sobbing from the other side of the door distracted Hotch's thoughts. Without hesitation, he opened the door. What he found deeply worried him. Reid was face down on the bed, his body convulsing with the intensity of his crying. He made almost no sound. Hotch was grateful he had been near enough to hear anything at all. Instinctively, Hotch moved to the far side of the small bed, sat gently next to Reid, and placed a comforting hand on the boy's head, "Spencer?"

Reid's immediate reaction shocked them both. Unable to stop crying, he bolted up and practically fell into Hotch's arms. He was on auto-pilot and he needed human contact right now. Reid felt as though he were outside of his body watching this scene play out in front of him.

Hotch simply held Reid letting him cry. He allowed himself the occasional, "You're going to be okay," but he didn't try to make the younger man stop crying. He needed to get it out – whatever 'it' was. Beyond this, Hotch felt nearly helpless. He had no idea what had brought it on, but he intended to find out.

Gradually, the sobbing slowed to soft crying, and then to sniffling combined with the occasional hiccup. Recovered enough to feel embarrassed, Reid gently pushed away from Hotch and rubbed at his eyes, mumbling, "I'm sorry." Hotch produced a box of tissue of which the young man gratefully grabbed a handful. He scrubbed at his face and noisily blew his nose.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Hotch comforted, "do you want to talk about it?"

'NO!' thought Reid, but he knew that wouldn't be an acceptable answer. Instead, through shaky breaths, he said, "I thought you were so ashamed of me that you didn't want to see me. I-I thought I'd messed up so badly, you were giving up on me."

"The only thing you did wrong was to have drugs in your possession, Spencer. You didn't take them and you managed to follow through with all the other expectations I have for your recovery as well as the demands of your job. While I am disappointed that you had the drugs, I am certainly not ashamed of you." Things were beginning to make more sense to Hotch now. He asked, "What were you looking for when I found you?"

Reid wondered how Hotch knew he was looking for something, but he answered, "I'm really sorry, Hotch. I-I was looking for the vial of dilaudid." He hung his head in disgrace as tears sprang to his eyes again.

It only took Hotch a moment to reason this out, "No you weren't." Dismayed, Reid looked up at his boss. Hotch registered the fresh tears but continued, "You knew I was here and that I would catch you." Hotch was suddenly irritated with himself. He should have known better than to leave Reid alone when he was so vulnerable. "I'm sorry, Spencer. You must have felt abandoned isolated in here."

As usual, Hotch proved he knew the young man better than he even knew himself. Embarrassed, he wrapped his arms tighter around himself and stared at the floor. "I was fine," He muttered.

"Spencer." Came the warning reply, "We've talked about how important honesty is to your recovery. It's even more important that you're honest with yourself than with me. Do you want to try that one again?"

Reid wondered why Hotch kept asking him questions that the clear answer was "NO!" when he obviously didn't want that as a response. Taking a deep breath, he instead tried, "I-I was really scared I'd lost your support."

Hotch gently gripped the young man's shoulder, "Are we clear now that won't ever happen, and as long as you're still willing to fight this I'll be there helping you?"

Nodding his head, he quietly said, "Yes. Thank you." An angry face flashed through his mind at that moment, and he flinched. Meeting Hotch's eye, he fearfully asked, "What about Morgan? He was really angry with me."

Hotch wondered when this would come up, and he was ready with his answer, "He was extremely angry, but not at you . . . well, maybe a little at you, but mostly he was angry with himself. You know how protective he is of everyone on this team, but when you obtained the dilaudid, he felt he had let you down because you were under his direct protection at the time."

This news distressed the young doctor even more than the thought of Morgan being angry with him. "But it was my fault, Hotch. I bought it. I hid it. He had nothing to do with it!"

"Calm down, Spencer." Hotch soothed, "I know, and I've already talked to him about it. You don't need to worry about Morgan."

Reid trusted Hotch, but he wouldn't be entirely convinced until he was able to see Morgan for himself. "Do you think he could come over tonight?"

"He may have other plans, but I'll call and ask after lunch." Hotch stood and looked down at the worried expression on Reid's face, "Come on. You can sit in the corner while I fix lunch."

Though he was surprised by the proclamation, the young man acquiesced quickly realizing the alternative was to stay in this room alone.

XOXOXOXO

Hotch placed a dining room chair facing a blank wall just outside the kitchen. He could keep an eye on the young man while Reid had the comfort of proximity as he spent 15 minutes thinking about everything. Hotch only had to warn him once that this was not a time for discussion. In the meantime the older man pulled together the ingredients for two turkey sandwiches and a plate of vegetables. It was a simple lunch, but even this he figured Reid would have trouble finishing in his current state.

Placing everything on the table, he said, "Okay, time for lunch."

Though he wasn't the least bit hungry, he was eager to finally leave the corner. Reid returned his chair to its rightful place and joined his boss at the table. He picked a bit at the sandwich while he formed a question in his mind. Rallying his nerve, he timidly asked, "So, you're really not mad at me?"

Finishing off the first half of his sandwich, Hotch clarified, "I'm upset that you bought the drugs, but I'm not mad at you. I'm actually quite proud of you. Now eat!"

Reid gave a little smile and took the first actual bite of his meal. Swallowing this, he kept his eyes on his plate and tried, "So, does that mean you're not going to punish me?"

Hotch didn't answer until Reid met his eye, "What do you think?"

The younger man swallowed hard and returned his attention to his lunch.

**XOXOXOXO**

**Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!**

**I know you were expecting our boy to be punished, but the angst must be quelled first. Perhaps with the next chapter. We'll have to see.**

**Please review. Love to hear from everyone!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to everyone who has so kindly been leaving reviews. I can't tell you how much I appreciate them - and you. :)**

**So, let's jump right into it, shall we . . . **

**I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.**

**XOXOXOXOXO**

With lunch over and the dishes washed up, Hotch led Reid to the guest bedroom. Positioning himself beside the long side of the bed, he gave Reid a stern stare. "Slacks and underwear off please."

The young man's eyes opened wide and his jaw nearly dropped. The last time he had been spanked, Hotch let him keep them on. "But – I." Sigh. "Yes, Sir." Slowly, with shaking hands, Reid removed the items of clothing and placed them carelessly on the dresser. His shirt tails managed to cover his modesty, but he pulled down on the hem just in case.

Hotch settled himself on the small bed and waited. Though he was extraordinarily proud of Reid for not taking the dilaudid, he needed to make certain his youngest agent would think twice before buying it again. "When you're ready," Hotch invited Reid to place himself in position over the older man's knee.

Mouth dry, the young doctor tried to lick his lips as he took the two steps to reach Hotch. He hesitated only a moment before arranging himself in his allotted place.

The older man steadied him and ensured he was as comfortable as could be expected before placing his right hand on the boy's back and pushing the hem of the shirt up and out of the way. Taking aim, he raised his left hand and brought it down hard across both cheeks.

Reid gasped. As the smacks continued to rain down, he quickly recognized he wouldn't be able to control his cries for long. Trying to remember to breathe, he reached up for a pillow to hug. It was then that he realized he was facing the wrong direction. The pillow was at his feet. Grasping for anything he could, he crumpled the comforter in his hands and pressed his face into it. It wasn't as good as a pillow, but it was something.

Hotch wasn't wasting time. He was spanking hard and fast. Reid tried not to kick, but inadvertently let a couple fly. He noticed that each time he did, Hotch laid a resounding swat on the upper most part of his thigh, just below his buttocks. He could hardly believe how much that hurt, and he resolved to keep his legs from kicking again. Tightly crossing his ankles, he held his legs as steady as he could.

Above him, Hotch began his lecture. The young man knew it was coming. Vaguely, he wondered how he was so sure of that. Hotch had only spanked him once before. In a brief moment of clarity, Reid suddenly realized Hotch's pattern was exactly like Gideon's had been.

Continuing the barrage of swats, Hotch punctuated his reprimand, "Having drugs in your possession now or anytime is completely unacceptable. You are a Federal agent, Spencer. Even if you weren't fighting a drug addiction, simply having illegally obtained drugs could end your career." Reid gasped, and then began to whimper. "You also managed to evade Morgan again knowing, but not considering, how this might affect him. He wants nothing more than to protect you, but your actions wholly prevented that." This reminder distressed the young man greatly; he began sobbing in earnest. Hotch knew this was playing dirty, but if it made Reid think twice about doing it again, he was willing to use this to his advantage. "And then keeping the drugs hidden, when you knew you should give them up, was asinine. At any point you might have succumbed to them. You put yourself in completely avoidable danger." He was crying so hard now breathing was becoming quite difficult. "Even if, as you say, you didn't know you were doing it when you bought them, you certainly knew what you had done soon after." A frantic gasp between the sobs, made Hotch cease his assault. He switched to rubbing comforting circles in the young man's back, waiting patiently for him to calm down so he could finish. The wracking sobs continued for several minutes. The older agent maintained physical contact, but allowed him to cry. As Reid began to calm down to sniffles, Hotch ordered, "I need you to sit up now, please."

Taking a shaky breath, Reid attempted to comply, but as he began to pull away from Hotch the loss of physical contact was too much for him. He dropped to his knees in front of the older man. Though he was embarrassed to do so, this didn't stop him from burying his head in Hotch's knee and loosely wrapping his arms around his calf. Hotch rested a caring hand on Reid's head and let him take his time regaining his composure. It wasn't long before the young doctor sighed and turned his head to rub at his eyes. Hotch gently pressured him to sit up as he handed him a box of tissue. Reid cleaned his face, but leaned into Hotch as much as he could.

Hotch realized Reid was drained. He looked like he was about to fall asleep. This was confirmed when he yawned deeply and blinked up at his supervisor before tiredly dropping his gaze. Hotch would allow him to rest soon, but he needed to make one more thing very clear. "Look at me, young man." When he had Reid's full attention, he gravely continued, "Should you ever slip like this again, I expect you to give the drugs up to me or Morgan immediately. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Sir!" Came the emphatic reply accompanied by a frantic nod.

Relenting a bit, Hotch said, "You won't be in trouble if you do, Spencer, but it must happen immediately."

Reid offered a small, sheepish smile of understanding, "I-I'm sorry I screwed up so badly. It won't happen again."

"That's why I'm here, Spencer. If you get off course, I'll help you find the path again. Okay?"

Reid again nodded, and then stifled another yawn.

Now, Hotch needed to figure out how to get this kid to rest without making him feel like he was being treated like a child. He tried, "Why don't you get dressed, grab a book and join me in the living room? I'll make us some tea."

It worked. The young man's face lit up at the prospect of not being left alone again. Hotch left him to his dressing and went to the kitchen to brew his secret weapon – a tea of passionflower, chamomile and catnip. The boy should be asleep within the hour. While he waited for the water to boil, he called Morgan and asked him to come by around 5pm.

Morgan didn't hesitate to accept the invitation. After he had left them on the jet, he realized the anxious young man was probably eating himself up with worry about Morgan's anger. He wanted to clear the air between them as soon as he could.

Hotch hung up just as the tea kettle came to a boil. He poured the hot water into two mugs (his own containing only a green tea mix) and carried them to the coffee table to steep. Grabbing a pile of case files, Hotch sat on one end of the sofa and began to study them.

It wasn't long before an exhausted young agent appeared. Hotch noticed he had changed into a pair of soft sweats. He looked like he should be dragging a teddy bear and worn blanket behind him. Instead he carried a large technical book. The older man didn't think it looked like very interesting reading, but the point wasn't to get him to read. Perhaps the dry material would put him to sleep all the sooner. With a friendly nod, Hotch welcomed him to take a seat on the other end of the sofa.

Reid sat gingerly, curled his legs up around him, clutched his mug and sipped at it as he began reading. Not 15 minutes later, Hotch watched the young man's eyes begin to flutter shut. Occationally, he would rub at them trying to stay awake. 'It won't be long now,' the older agent thought.

He was startled when the young man spoke, "Hotch?" he started timidly, "Can I ask you kind of a personal question?"

The older man wasn't sure how comfortable he was with being asked personal questions, but considering what they had been through, he was at least willing to hear the query. Giving a simple nod, he assented.

Reid didn't know how to ask other than to just say it, "How often did Gideon punish you?"

Hotch was completely side-swiped by the question, but he kept his features carefully schooled in an unaffected mask. "Have you been profiling me, young man?" He was stern, but not angry.

Reid knew he had stepped over the line as soon as the question was out of his mouth, "I'm sorry, Hotch. It's just that you use the same methods of punishment as he did, so I just figured . . . " He let the thought fade out and die. Judging by the look on Hotch's face, he had definitely gone too far.

Hotch gave him a long, thoughtful stare before surprising Reid with an answer, "When I first started with the Bureau, I was a bit of a hot-head. I would run into situations without fully thinking things through, I would start arguments with suspects and uncooperative witnesses, I thought I knew it all, and I acted like it. Gideon must've seen some potential in me, because he certainly had more than enough reason to fire me. Instead, he – took me in hand – so to speak. He had a very persuasive way about him." He ended with a sly smile, and then pointedly returned his attention to his files.

Reid continued gawking at his boss trying to take in this new information. Once he was able to accept it, he started reading again feeling more drained than ever.

10 minutes later Hotch carefully pried the empty mug and large book out of Reid's hands. The boy never woke up. Then, Hotch covered him with a light blanket before returning to his files. He relocated himself in the chair next to the sofa to allow more room for Reid to stretch out as he fell into a deeper sleep.

**XOXOXOXOXO**

**Yeah, I know. It's short. But this felt like a good stopping point. Hope you enjoyed! **

**The goddess holds a special place in her heart for those who leave a review. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you Maxandkiz for your inspiration! Without you, this chapter would never have happened.**

**I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.**

**XOXOXOXOXO**

Two hours later, Reid was still asleep. Hotch was considering waking him so he would be able to sleep tonight when there was a knock at his door. Reid stirred as Hotch rose to let Morgan in.

Opening the door, Hotch greeted a relatively subdued agent. Morgan was clearly worried about Reid, "How is he, Hotch?" Came the quiet inquiry.

With a reassuring nod, Hotch confirmed, "He'll be fine. Come in."

Slowly coming awake, Reid rolled over on the sofa and winced as his still sore butt made contact with the cushion beneath him. Without thinking, he let a small moan escape before clamping his mouth shut.

With a good guess at what had happened here, Morgan chuckled softly. As sorry as he felt for the kid having to go through this, Hotch had certainly given him what he deserved. Walking into the living room as the kid gingerly sat up, Morgan teased, "You look well-rested."

Reid rubbed his face with his hands trying to push away the remaining sleep-induced fog. He blinked up at the two men trying to get a feel for the mood in the room. Hotch seemed relaxed. Morgan always appeared in control no matter the situation. It took knowing him for as many years as Reid had to pick up on the subtle underlying tension. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Long enough." Was Hotch's mild reply.

Standing, the young man sheepishly faced his friend, "Morgan, I . . . "

Before he could even get started, Morgan cut him off with a friendly pat on the shoulder, "It's okay, kid. We're good."

Reid searched his face looking for the truth. He couldn't believe he could be so easily forgiven.

Hotch was also surprised by this proclamation of goodwill, but he didn't want to discuss it in front of Reid, "Go get dressed. Morgan's going to drop you off at the NA meeting tonight.

This time the young man didn't even try to suppress his groan. He had hoped Hotch would forget, though he didn't truly expect he would.

"Are they really so bad, kid?" Morgan was genuinely interested. It wasn't like Reid to complain about things like this, especially when it was an order from Hotch.

Reid sighed and answered, "No, I suppose not," but he still sounded like a pouting child being forced to do his homework. He jammed his hands in his pockets and slowly moped his way to his room.

The older men let him go hoping his mood would improve before he returned. Hotch gestured for Morgan to take a seat on the sofa as he sat in his chair, "How're you doing, Morgan?"

Morgan was nothing if not honest, "Still pissed off, but I'll get over it."

"You're hiding it well." This was not a commendation. Morgan picked up on the tone and gave his boss a hard look. Hotch pressed on, "I think you need to talk with Reid about it."

"Hotch, talking with him isn't going to change the fact that he bought those drugs – on my watch."

The older man thought that might still be bothering him, "No. It won't. But he needs to hear from you how you're feeling about it."

"I don't see what good it would do. You said yourself he's hurting right now and that I need to be there for him. Telling him how I feel about this whole thing would just hurt him more. Huh-uh. I'll get over it and just make damn sure that this never happens again."

Hotch's eyebrow raised and he nearly cracked a smile, "Really? How are you planning to ensure that exactly?" The reaction was unexpected, and Morgan gave his boss a questioning cock of his head. Hotch clarified, "You can't live his life for him, Morgan. We can set certain parameters, and enforce consequences when he steps over them, but he has to make his own decisions. If he decides to use again, we won't be able to stop him." Morgan looked as though he was giving this some serious thought. Hotch optimistically asked, "So, will you talk to him?"

"I'll think about it," was the resistant retort.

"Think about what?" Reid's entrance took both men by surprise. They hoped he hadn't heard any of their conversation.

"Ummm . . . think about taking you to meet the team for dinner at the Birch and Barley tonight after your meeting." It was an obvious obfuscation, but Reid didn't push it further. "You ready to go?"

Reid looked at his shoes and gave a petulant shrug. The older men exchanged a look of frustration, but again let it go.

"Where's your jacket, Spencer?" Hotch asked.

Still studying his shoes, Reid mumbled, "I'm fine without it."

"It's going to be cold tonight. Go get your jacket."

Reid raised his head and looked distinctly like he wanted to argue, but one look at the forbidding expression on Hotch's face changed his mind. He pursed his lips, turned on his heels and disappeared into the bedroom.

Hotch quietly asked, "Are you sure you want to take him tonight? He's in a mood."

"We'll be fine, Hotch."

"Alright, I'll meet you at the pub afterward. Don't let him push you. Set limits and enforce them, Morgan. He'll appreciate it later."

Morgan gave a serious nod of understanding as Reid returned wearing a light jacket. Hotch knew the young man had chosen the flimsiest jacket he had out of spite, but decided that if he got cold tonight, he would have to live with the consequences of his decision. Getting a little chilly tonight might make him think twice next time.

Morgan headed for the door, "Let's hit the road, kid."

Reid obediently, yet apathetically, followed.

XOXOXOXO

Morgan pulled his truck up in front of the old church where the NA meetings were held. They were 20 minutes early, so he cut the engine with every intention of keeping the younger man company until he had to leave. Instead, Reid quickly unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door and prepared to hop out.

"Where ya goin', kid. It's early."

Standing outside the truck now, Reid turned back to face the older man, "It's fine, Morgan. They have coffee inside." He seemed sad, "I'll meet you back here afterward?"

Morgan was at a loss as to how to help the kid. With a furrowed brow, he simply responded, "yeah. I'll be here."

Reid closed the door, and looking like he had just lost his best friend, brooded his way into the building.

XOXOXOXO

During the meeting, Reid ignored the speakers. He used the time to think about why he was feeling so upset. Hotch's punishment wasn't the problem. In fact he had felt better than he had in days about his relationship with the older man after it was over. He wasn't even all that upset about being made to come to this meeting. His reaction to it had simply been an excuse for his dark mood. Morgan didn't seem angry with him anymore, so why was he still thinking about it? Everything was fine now. He could move forward. But he still felt stuck.

When his turn came to speak, he took a pass, as he always did. They could make him come, but they couldn't make him participate. Besides, he wasn't even entirely certain what tonight's topic was.

As the hour passed his thoughts continued to swirl, 'Morgan was so angry before. Hotch said he was angry at himself, not me. But I caused it. It was my responsibility. He should still be mad at me. Why isn't he? He doesn't trust me anymore. Why should he? I won't do it again, that's for sure! But how do I make him believe that? Why should he care anyway? He doesn't care now. I pushed him too far. He'll never trust me again. There's nothing I can do.'

He was drawn from his thoughts as the group began to stir. He stood when they stood. Automatically, he chorused the final invocation with the rest of the group. Throwing his jacket back on, he stalked out of the room without a single word to anyone.

He was surprised to find Morgan waiting for him outside the meeting room. The older man had had an hour to think as well. "Hey kid," he greeted with a half-smile.

The look Morgan received was very nearly a glare. This sealed it. Hotch was right. They needed to get a few things out in the open before this kid imploded. He didn't want to do this outside in the dark pickup, so he said, "Come on. We need to talk," and led the young man down the hall and into a private classroom he had scoped out earlier.

Once they were both inside, Morgan closed the heavy door and turned back to find Reid already on the other side of the room. His attention was on a set of construction toys. Morgan studied him for a moment before slowly crossing over to stand behind the young man. He was half-heartedly tinkering with the bits and pieces in front of him. Morgan started, "Want to tell me what's goin' on with you right now?"

He received a sulky shrug in response. Morgan could feel his blood pressure rise. This kid knew how to push his buttons when he wanted to.

"Turn around and look at me, kid," the older man demanded.

He was surprised when the answer was, "Why? You're the one who wanted to talk. So talk." He continued fiddling with the toys not even attempting to comply.

That was it! Morgan knew what he had to do. He didn't think twice. Grabbing Reid's arm, he spun the startled young man around. Propping his left leg up on a child's chair, he deftly flipped Reid over his knee.

"Hey! W-what are you doing?" Reid demanded as he squirmed, trying to get away.

Morgan easily held him in place, "If you're going to act like a petulant child when I'm trying to have an adult conversation, I'm damn sure going to treat you like one."

Unfortunately for the young man, he had chosen to display his attitude next to a table of art supplies. Morgan snatched the heavy wooden ruler out of its container and snapped it down smartly several times covering Reid's already sore butt. His slacks did nothing to protect him. "Hey! OW! Ah-Owww! Morgan! Stop!"

Having fully covered his target area, he paused, "Are you going to act like an adult and talk to me?" Morgan queried the still upended young man.

Other than the angry huffing, he received only silence from Reid. He took this as non-compliance and adroitly applied another two circuits of swats to his squirming recipient.

"Nooo! Morgan! Owwww! Pleasssse!" By the fourth excursion Reid was lying limply over Morgan's knee, simply crying.

When Morgan stopped spanking, Reid didn't hesitate to cry out, "I'm sorry. Please. I'll be good. I'll talk."

This was the Reid he knew. Morgan dropped the ruler and helped the crying young man to stand.

Trying hard to contain his crying, he stood hanging his head and rubbing at his flaming backside. The kid was really upset. Morgan wasn't good at this part, but he knew what he needed to do. Gently turning Reid to face him, he stepped in close and pulled the young man into a hug. Reid buried his head in Morgan's shoulder and continued to cry as the older man rubbed comforting circles in his back.

Still submerged in Morgan's shoulder, Reid finally reduced to sniffles and an occasional hic-up. He started talking before Morgan released him, "I-I'm s-sorry, Morgan. Please don't hate me."

Startled by the plea, Morgan grabbed both of the young man's arms and held him away so he could see his face, "I don't hate you kid. What would make you say that?"

Trying to rub at his wet face though Morgan's hand on his arms prevented this, he answered, "I deceived you when I bought the dilaudid. I didn't tell you I had it when I knew I should." He started to cry again, "I-I'm really sorry, Morgan."

Morgan pulled him back into a comforting hug. He let the young man cry for a while before reiterating, "I don't hate you, kid. I couldn't if I wanted to." Reid was back to sniffling again, so Morgan eased him back to see his face. Offering him the box of tissue from the teacher's desk, he continued, "Look, I'll admit. I was angry – no I was pissed – when I found out what you'd done. Hell, I'm still angry about it. You went out of your way to position yourself, and me, so you could get to those drugs, man. You manipulated me."

Reid looked like he was about to start crying again. He hated the thought of disappointing his big brother so badly, and he was sure he could never make it up to him.

Seeing Reid's face, Morgan hurried forward, "But I was reading some of the literature out there in the hall while you were in that meeting. One of the things it said was that it is possible for someone to become so overwhelmed or upset that they go on autopilot and end up finding they've bought drugs or alcohol without realizing they had done it. We were heading into a case that was set up to bother you, kid. It makes sense that this would happen to you at that time."

Reid continued to sniffle quietly, "Can you ever forgive me?" he begged, staring at the floor.

"Look at me," Morgan gently ordered. When he had the kid's full attention, he sincerely finished, "There's nothing to forgive. As far as I'm concerned, it was this drug's fault." Reid guiltily broke eye contact. He felt he was weak for letting drugs have such control over him. Morgan saw this and continued, "Hey, we're going to fight this thing together. You got me?" Receiving a childlike nod from his friend, he said, "We can beat this thing. You, me and Hotch. Okay?"

He only received a small, sad smile from the kid. Something else was bothering him, "What kid? What're you thinking about?"

"Will you ever trust me again?" Reid blurted out.

"Trust you?" Morgan almost lied again, but stopped himself, "Kid, until you get this drug addiction under control, I will be watching you like a hawk. But it's not you I distrust, it's the dilaudid. You, I trust with my life."

Searching the older man's face and finding the truth in it, suddenly Reid felt better. He felt safe. He was almost nearing happy. Smiling, he met Morgan's eye and joked – actually joked! – "but not with _my_ life."

With a light-hearted smile, Morgan replied, "Nah, kid. You can do what you want with your life – orders from Hotch – but if you screw up, he and I will be there to catch you."

Reid reached around to rub at his backside again, "Yeah, I noticed."

Morgan chuckled and threw his arm around Reid's shoulders, "Come on, kid. Everyone's waiting for us at the pub."

**XOXOXOXO**

**Oh, that was a fun chapter to write! :) Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Please drop me a line and let me know.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, I have a big paper due this week, but I had to get this published first. Right? Now I can concentrate on the boring stuff. *sigh* **

**I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.**

**XOXOXOXO**

Morgan led the way into the Birch and Barley. Reid, trailing behind him, was feeling a bit bashful about seeing the rest of the team. Logically, he knew they couldn't possibly tell he had been spanked, not once, but twice today. Still, they were experienced profilers. He needed to pull it together before they started suspecting something.

Hotch was another problem all together. Reid had no idea how he would react to the news that Morgan had disciplined him. He hoped Hotch wouldn't add to his punishment. His butt couldn't take much more today and his throat was beginning to hurt - probably from crying so much.

The rest of the team had already arrived. They were sitting at a large round table in the middle of the dining room laughing and having a few drinks. Morgan and Reid made their way across the crowded room to join them. Prentice and Garcia had saved a seat between them for Morgan. There was another seat open between Garcia and J.J. for Reid. Next to J.J. sat Rossi and then Hotch, who, despite sitting at a round table, still gave the appearance of occupying the head of the table.

The two men greeted everyone, but Hotch didn't miss the timid glance and general lack of eye contact he received from Reid. Catching Morgan's eye, he wordlessly asked if everything was alright. Morgan flashed him a quick, cocky smile. Then, seeing Reid gingerly take his seat, Hotch understood what had happened and he relaxed.

Reid noticed that someone had already ordered him a drink. Taking a sip, he found it was only a Coke. He normally ordered a Brandy when he came to this pub and was surprised that whoever got this for him didn't know that. He didn't want to offend anyone, so decided to finish it off.

Once everyone was settled, they ordered dinner and then fell into a friendly banter. When the conversation began to flow toward work-related topics, someone would drag them away from the subject toward something a bit lighter.

Downing the last of his soda and with the waitress nowhere to be found, Reid excused himself and made his way to the bar. Hotch keenly watched him go. Quietly excusing himself from the group, he intercepted the young man just as he finished placing his drink request, "Hold that order, please," he cordially instructed the bartender. Before Reid could protest, Hotch softly said, "No alcohol, Spencer. Not tonight. We have some business to take care of, and I don't want your capacities decreased."

Reid thought he knew what this was about, but he couldn't figure out how Hotch knew. Morgan hadn't had a moment alone with their boss to discuss it yet. Deciding to address this before Hotch could get him alone, he pressed forward, "I know. I shouldn't have given Morgan such a hard time. I told him I was sorry."

Holding up a hand to halt the younger man's confession, Hotch responded, "I'm sure Morgan took care of whatever happened between you two."

Reid blushed as he remembered the sting in his rear end, but he relaxed slightly realizing he wouldn't be punished again for his behavior with Morgan.

Continuing, Hotch said, "We need to start focusing on a recovery plan for you. I want you to be able to create a list of your triggers tonight, and if you're drinking you won't be as thorough. After tonight though, I think it would be a good idea for you to avoid alcohol for a while anyway."

"What? You can't just make up arbitrary rules. Even though you and Morgan don't seem to notice, I am an adult. I can have a drink if I want one. Everyone is drinking tonight, and one Brandy isn't going to impair my thinking." He turned back to the bar to re-order his drink.

Though the establishment was quite raucous, Hotch's next words seemed to engulf the young man, "No alcohol, Spencer. If you continue to push me on this, we will leave right now."

Reid gazed down at the top of the bar trying to decide what to do. He really wanted that drink right now. He felt he deserved it after the day he had endured. Hotch wasn't going to budge though. Feeling very much put upon, he gave in – more or less, "Fine! I'll just drink water then. I am in prison after all. Why should I have anything more than bread and water?" In a huff he stalked back to their table and took his seat.

The rest of the team noticed the younger man's choleric mood, but it had become such a common occurrence lately they mostly ignored it any more. Morgan, however, stared at Reid waiting for eye contact he never received. He turned his attention to Hotch as the older man returned to the table. Again, he received no acknowledgement as Hotch was busy giving Reid a hard look that the young doctor pretended he didn't see.

The team was rescued from the rapidly growing tension when the food was served. Slowly, Hotch and Morgan began to rejoin the conversation. Reid, however, continued sulking. He pushed his food around on the plate, never taking a bite, ordered only water as promised, and to completely push Hotch's buttons, he occasionally took a small bite of his bread. With each bite, he glanced at Hotch making sure he got the point.

Hotch saw every juvenile act of defiance, but decided not to let it ruin his or anyone else's evening. He would address this behavior later, in private.

XOXOXOXO

The return drive to Hotch's apartment was quiet for the most part. While they walked as quickly as possible to his car, Hotch had asked his youngest agent if he wanted to explain his behavior during dinner. Reid's only answer had been a terse, "You're being unreasonable." When Hotch asked him what he meant by that, he received only pouty silence and an increase in walking speed in return. Now Reid sat in Hotch's car trying to warm up from his frigid walk.

The ultra-light jacket had indeed been a mistake. The mercury was dipping just below freezing, and Hotch was showing him no mercy regarding his clothing choice. The young man swore Hotch had parked as far away as he possibly could, and now though the heater was on, Hotch wouldn't turn it up all the way like he wanted. What he refused to acknowledge was that the short drive to Hotch's apartment didn't allow the car to warm up enough to make turning up the heater worthwhile. This simply gave him an excuse to wallow deeper in his anger.

Pulling into the parking garage beneath his building, Hotch cut the engine. Reid was out of his seatbelt and opening the door in a flash. Hotch managed to stop him by merely uttering his name, "Spencer." The young man knew he was in trouble again, but he'd hoped Hotch would wait until they made it inside his apartment first. He gulped, bit his lower lip and settled himself back in his seat.

Hotch waited for eye contact before beginning, "Your behavior tonight was atrocious." The young man swallowed hard. Hotch was far angrier than he had let on at dinner, "If you want Morgan and me to treat you as an adult, you need to start acting like one again. I have given you several opportunities to either change your conduct or to talk to me about what is going on with you, but you've chosen instead to sulk. I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but I won't put up with it. Let's go."

He exited the car and waited for his willful young agent to follow suit. Once he locked up the car, he crossed over to Reid and, taking his elbow, guided him to the elevator.

Reid meekly allowed Hotch to steer him to the apartment. He was truly sorry he hadn't acted more maturely, and could hardly believe he had gotten himself in trouble for the third time in one day. Briefly, he wondered how he'd managed this, but he was too frightened of his impending 'discussion' with Hotch to think much about it.

Entering the apartment, Hotch closed and locked the front door as Reid removed his jacket though he was still shivering from the cold. Hotch took the jacket ordering, "Corner. Now."

Dropping his eyes and nodding his head, the younger man headed toward the dining room. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to sit or not, but decided to try since he may not be sitting well for a while after tonight. Placing one of the dining room chairs to face the corner, he sighed and sat down, wincing as his butt hit the hard wood. He'd almost managed to forget how much the spanking Morgan administered earlier had hurt. Sighing, he resigned himself to his fate.

Reid tensed as Hotch approached him. He was relieved when the older man dropped a heavy sweatshirt in his lap, "You're freezing. Put this on." Obediently, he pulled it over his head and settled back into watching the empty corner. He heard Hotch take a seat at the far end of the table behind him. He felt the older man's eyes on his back, and then heard him turn the pages of one of the books still sitting on the table.

Ten minutes later Reid snuck yet another peek at his watch. With difficulty, he stopped himself from letting out a frustrated sigh. He was bored, and as much as he didn't want to be punished, if it was going to happen he wanted to get it over with.

Another five minutes passed and he was beginning to squirm. "Sit still." Hotch ordered from behind him. Reid let out a small sigh – not quite loud enough to get him in more trouble – and tried to focus his mind on something. Anything.

Twenty minutes after placing Reid at his post, Hotch stood and went to the kitchen. Opening a drawer, he removed a heavy wooden spoon. He then moved in beside Reid and placed a firm hand on the younger man's shoulder. Turning his head toward Hotch, his eyes went wide when he saw what was in his hand. Soft, pleading eyes turned up to the older man. Hotch quickly collected himself for the task ahead, "Let's take care of this, young man."

Reid involuntarily gulped, but dutifully stood and followed the older man to the living room. He was almost relieved to be getting this over with – almost.

When Hotch stopped in front of the sofa and turned to face him, Reid wrapped his arms around himself protectively. "Do you know why I'm punishing you?" The older man gravely asked.

His mouth suddenly dry, the younger man dropped his eyes to the floor and tried to swallow. He nodded, but said nothing.

"Tell me." Hotch ordered.

Reid wasn't surprised by the directive. Shamefacedly, he answered, "Because I was being a brat."

Hotch had to stop himself from chuckling at the expressive word. As childlike as it was, 'brat' was the perfect descriptor. "Indeed, you were. Slacks off, please." Pushing the sleeves of his sweater up, he took a seat in the middle of the sofa and laid the spoon beside his left leg.

The young man's hands began to shake as he attempted to comply. After fumbling for several seconds, he finally managed to remove his slacks. Not bothering to fold them, he hastily draped them over the arm of the chair. Impulsively, he grabbed the throw pillow that adorned the chair and hugged it to his chest for comfort.

Hotch waited patiently, giving Reid the time he needed to prepare.

Wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, Reid approached the older man, knelt beside him on the couch, and laid himself in place over Hotch's lap. He continued to hold the pillow, and once he was as comfortable as could reasonably be expected, he buried his burning face in it.

Without clemency, Hotch jerked the underwear down to the boy's knees. Securing the young man in place with his right hand, he raised his left and smacked down hard. Reid popped up on his elbows and took in a sharp breath. Willing himself to accept his punishment without complaint, he gripped the pillow hard and pressed his entire face into it.

Hotch watched his young agent work through his situation without dropping another swat on him. Now that he seemed prepared, Hotch showered Reid's butt with hard, fast smacks.

The young man's hips began to rock trying to escape the blows. When that failed to work, he renewed his efforts to be still by tightly crossing his ankles. His breathing was labored, and it wasn't long before he was no longer able to hold back the small cries.

Once his target was a dark shade of pink, Hotch stopped, allowing Reid to calm his breathing a bit. Taking hold of the wooden spoon, he again took his aim and began his lecture, "I am getting tired of your juvenile outbursts, young man." He let the spoon hit its mark several times before continuing. Reid cried out in shock at the new sensation, but as Hotch maintained a steady stream of swats, the young doctor began crying in earnest. "I expect you to conduct yourself in a mature fashion. If you're upset about something, you need to talk to me about it." The sobs emanating from his willful agent nearly broke Hotch's heart, but he persisted. "Temper tantrums and pouting are self-indulgent and I will not tolerate them." Reid gradually became still and stiff under Hotch's hand. He was concerned for the young man, so he finished with, "If you disagree with one of my rules, we can discuss it, but I do expect you to do as you're told without these childish displays. Am I understood?"

Reid didn't respond at all. Hotch realized the boy wasn't breathing. He reached over and yanked the pillow out of Reid's grasp and away from his face. Rubbing reassuring, gentle circles in his back, he soothed, "Calm down, Spencer. Breathe."

Obediently, the young man gasped, filling his lungs as well as he could. An alarming deep cough exploded from his chest, and then he fell back into profound sobs. Hotch continued trying to calm him, afraid he might stop breathing again. "You're going to be okay. Breathe Spencer." Each time Hotch told him to breathe, he did. It was starting to work; the sobs were quieting to a soft cry. Occasionally, another cough would burst from the young man's lungs.

Though he maintained the soothing contact, Hotch didn't try to stop Reid from crying. He cried steadily for several minutes until he was reduced to quiet sniffles and shaky breaths. Hotch carefully slid Reid's underwear up over the young man's abraded skin.

Taking another shaky breath, Reid propped himself up on his elbows and respectfully requested, "May I get up?"

Remembering Reid's strong reaction to losing physical contact after this morning's punishment, he responded, "In a minute. I want to discuss a few things with you first."

The young man was surprised by Hotch's decision to keep him in this position, but he found the connection comforting, so he didn't argue.

Hotch didn't waste any time getting to the point, "Do you really believe Morgan and I don't think of you as an adult?"

The young agent was ashamed he had ever said that; he knew it wasn't true. They always treated him as an adult, except when he didn't act like one. He quietly admitted, "No, sir. I was just . . . embarrassed, I guess."

"Embarrassed? About what?"

"Everyone else was drinking," Reid nearly whined, "I didn't want to look like a baby drinking soda."

Understanding, Hotch silently nodded his head, "I wasn't drinking either. I meant what I said about needing to focus tonight."

"I know. I'm sorry." The young man sniffled, "but you said I couldn't drink any more after tonight too."

"Spencer." Hotch warned, "You know better than that. What did I really say?"

Guiltily clearing his throat, the young man parroted back, "I think it would be a good idea for you to avoid alcohol for a while."

Hotch let that sink in for a second before beginning, "Listen to me. You are fighting a drug addiction right now. You need to stay sober. Using alcohol to avoid or numb your emotions will impede your progress. I need you better. The team needs you better. That is not going to happen if you don't face what is bothering you. I don't expect you to stop having the occasional drink for the rest of your life, only for a month or two. Perhaps a bit longer if necessary. I'm here to support you in this fight, but you need to do the hard work. Do you understand?"

Reid's upper body had sunk back down onto the sofa as he listened. He turned his head so he could see Hotch out of the corner of his eye. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he admitted to himself the truth in the older man's words. He had lived his entire life avoiding his emotions. He was good at it. Sniffling again, he whispered, "Yes, sir."

Satisfied with their progress tonight, Hotch patted the young man on the shoulder indicating he could sit up.

Reid slowly rose and settled himself on the sofa beside the older man. He folded his hands between his knees to keep from playing with them, and kept his eyes on the floor. To Hotch he looked like a lost, frightened child. He slipped his arm around the young man and pulled him in close. Reid leaned into Hotch and dropped his head onto the older man's chest. He let the tears flow freely again until he was overcome by a coughing fit.

Hotch didn't like the sound of that cough. The kid was only just starting to get over a cold. He didn't need to be getting sick again. Using his free hand, he felt for any sign of a fever. Reid was a bit warm, but that could be a result of his high emotional state. Hotch looked at the clock. It was 10:30 already. He gave up on the idea of working on the recovery plan tonight. Instead, he said, "Go get ready for bed. I'll be in soon with something for that cough."

Reid slowly sat up, wiping away the tears and clearing his throat, he said, "It's nothing. I'm fine."

As the young man stood Hotch countered with, "Nevertheless, I want you to take something. If nothing else, it will help you sleep."

Noting the unmovable set of Hotch's jaw, Reid merely nodded his head and went to his room.

**XOXOXOXO**

**Thanks for reading!**

**If you enjoyed, please consider sending me a quick note. I love to hear from you, and you'll keep me encouraged while I work on my boring research (or distracted, but that can be good to).**


	6. Chapter 6

**So, the writer's block that had me in a headlock was finally wrestled to the ground, but not by me. Sometimes all I really need is a little shove in the right direction. I have an amazing person to thank for the inspiration for this chapter, but I don't know if she would be embarrassed being singled out like that. But you know who you are. Thank you, thank you, thank you!**

**I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.**

**XOXOXOXO**

Reid crept as quietly as possible though the dense vegetation. He knew they were out there, hunting him. They would find him eventually. Frantically, he looked around for something he could use as a weapon. He couldn't remember where he had even left his gun last. In his search he saw something moving in the distance off to his left. He crouched down even further behind an enormous log. Timidly, he peered into the dark mist. Was that a light? Someone was there! He seemed vaguely familiar. Squinting now, he moved in a little closer, still staying as hidden as he could. A loud snap of a branch off to the right told him those who hunted him were close. He was frightened, but the man in the light was becoming clearer now. Maybe he could help. Reid had to find out who he was. The young man called out, desperately trying to get the man's attention. His back was to Reid, and he didn't turn around or react in any way to Reid's call for help. Off to his right the foliage began to shake violently. Suddenly, from a large copse of trees three giant grizzlies erupted. They were charging Reid at top speed. The young man turned to cry out to the man for help just as the man turned in profile. Reid froze as he realized the unresponsive man before him was his father. Seconds later the bears' claws were tearing into his chest. He watched helplessly as his father walked slowly away. Reid cried out in pain as each bear took a piece of him.

Suddenly, the light, the sounds and even the smells of the forest changed. With wild, searching eyes he scanned the room trying to remember where he was. He could hear Hotch telling him he was okay. He latched on to the sound of the older man's voice and focused his eyes on him once he could see again. Reid was breathing heavily in his panic, and Hotch was directing him to take deep, slow breaths. He did his best to comply until his chest exploded in a wracking cough. His lungs were burning and the room was spinning. He was going to be sick.

Hotch recognized the warning signs and quickly grabbed the trash can. He held the receptacle as the young man wretched out the contents of his stomach. Once his stomach was empty, he continued to dry heave for several more minutes. A mixture of embarrassment, frustration and exhaustion overwhelmed him, and to his dismay Reid began to cry.

Hotch gently pushed the young man's hair away from his eyes. He was burning up. "It's okay, Spencer. You were having a nightmare. Lie back down and close your eyes for a minute. Relax and the heaving will stop." The older man continued brushing gentle fingers over Reid's forehead, soothing him and slowing his tears.

Still sniffling, Reid choked out, "I'm sorry, Hotch. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Softly, Hotch answered, "You're sick again, Spencer. Just relax now. I'll be right back."

As he began to rise, he felt a weak grasp on his arm. He looked down into frantic, frightened eyes. "Please, Hotch. Please don't leave." Reid felt the hot tears start to fall again. The thought of being left alone, even for a short time, was terrifying.

This was a bad sign. It would take a lot for this kid to beg like that. Hotch was fairly certain they would be making a trip to the emergency room tonight, but first he wanted to get the young man's temperature. He gently removed Reid hand from his arm, "I'll be back in less than a minute. Take a couple of deep breaths for me." He waited for Reid to do as he was told, "There you go. Now just relax, and I'll be right back."

Reid felt strangely unsure of letting Hotch go, but he nodded his head and closed his eyes to wait.

Hotch found the thermometer in the medicine cabinet, disinfected it, and returned as fast as he could. Popping the device in Reid's mouth, he worried about the frequency of the young man's illnesses and wondered when his last full examination had been. It had to be in his file somewhere. He made a mental note to look it up in the morning.

The thermometer beeped and Hotch retrieved it from the boy's mouth. 104.2 degrees. Alarmed, Hotch said, "Okay, Spencer, I know you're not feeling well, but I need to get you up. We're going to the hospital now."

The wide, frightened eyes returned, "What? Hotch, no! It's just a little cold or something. I'm sure I'll be fine." Though his words were strong, the effort behind them was far too weak. "Please? I just want to sleep." His eyes drifted shut and he snuggled further under the blankets. That was when Hotch realized Reid was shivering.

"Sorry Spencer. You need a doctor. Tell you what, I'm going to go get changed. You rest while I do that, then I'll come in to help you." There was no response from the apparently sleeping young man, so Hotch hurriedly went to change. It took him less than two minutes to throw on a pair of jeans, a sweater, socks and shoes. He pocketed his cell phone, wallet and car keys, and then rushed back to Reid's side. He took a moment to decide on a plan. He was already wearing pajamas, so Hotch slipped a pair of socks on his feet, then his keds and tied the laces. He never woke up. This worried Hotch more than anything. Placing a hand on Reid's cheek, he re-awoke the young man. "Come on, Spencer. I'm going to help you, but you need to sit up." Reid softly groaned in response. He slipped his arm under the young man's shoulders and lifted. Steadying the him in a seated position, he slipped one arm through the sleeves of his coat, and then the other arm. He then slipped a warm hat on the kid's head for good measure. Next, he sat on the bed, wrapped his arm around Reid's back and said, "Okay, you need to stand up now. I'm going to help you. Ready?" Reid's eyes were closed, but he nodded in response. "Okay then. One. Two. Three." Hotch did most of the work, but he got them both standing. "I'll hold you up. Do you think you can walk?" Again, he received a weak nod in response.

Hotch managed to get Reid down the hall, out the door and into the car without too much difficulty. He was never so grateful for the kid's slight build before.

XOXOXOXO

The emergency room, for once, was not busy, but Hotch had his badge ready to flash if it had been needed. The intake nurse had insisted on Hotch staying in the waiting room, but he would have none of it. He insisted on pushing the wheelchair Reid was using. Once they were in the examine area, the busy staff didn't bother them any further. One of the nurses even found a comfortable chair for Hotch to use while they waited.

The nurses and technicians flitted in and out of the room taking blood, checking Reid's pulse and temperature, and finally hooking up a bag of saline to ward off dehydration. Reid slept through it all. Though it was only 4:30am, Hotch called Morgan knowing his most protective agent would never forgive him if he waited until a more decent hour. Morgan was ready to drive to the hospital at that moment, but Hotch made him promise to wait until they had more news. Besides, Reid was sleeping soundly now and neither of the men wanted to disturb him any more than the hospital staff already was.

Two hours after checking in, a doctor finally entered the room. After listening to the young man's chest, she quietly asked Hotch if Reid had been sick recently. Hotch acknowledged he had. She then told Hotch she suspected pneumonia, but wanted to get a chest x-ray to be certain. Hotch was hesitant to let the x-ray tech. take Reid off alone, but the doctor stepped in to prevent his participation this time. Instead, he went to the waiting room to update Morgan. "Sounds like it could be pneumonia. He'll need a lot of care for a while."

"I'll be at the hospital in twenty minutes, Hotch." He could hear his boss begin to protest and stopped him, "I'm already on my way."

Hotch looked at the time on his cell phone before putting it away. 6:30am. It was going to be a long day. He was already feeling the lack of sleep. He took a seat on one of the hard chairs and waited for Morgan to show up.

Moments later, Hotch felt a firm hand grip his shoulder. "Hotch? Hey, wake up." Hotch quickly focused on Morgan's face, "You were about to fall out of the chair." He was grinning.

Still trying to focus, Hotch responded, "You got here fast." He glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 7:10. "Is that right?"

Morgan turned to look at the clock, "Yeah. You must've really been out of it." Watching Hotch run a hand over his fatigued eyes, Morgan said, "pneumonia, huh?"

Recovering some, Hotch couldn't help but feel responsible, "I should have made him wear a warmer coat last night. He wasn't completely over his cold yet."

"Hotch, you said yourself the kid needs to live with the consequences of his decisions. You couldn't know this decision would lead to pneumonia." Seeing his pep talk wasn't having the effect he wanted, he tried, "Look, he's going to be fine. The docs will set him up with whatever medications he needs, then we'll take him home and make sure he gets healthy."

Hotch was attempting to take this to heart as the doctor entered the waiting room. "Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch and Morgan closed the gap between them and the doctor, "Yes? What's the diagnosis, Doctor?"

She gave a hesitant look at Morgan. Whereas Agent Reid had given permission to consult with Agent Hotchner regarding medical issues, no such permission had been given outside of this. Patient confidentiality was something she took very seriously.

Hotch immediately caught on to the problem and said, "Morgan? Would you mind . . . ?" He asked gently enough that the younger man was not offended. Besides, Hotch would just turn around and fill him in anyway. He walked a few steps away.

The doctor answered, "He's awake now, and his fever is down slightly, most likely due to the saline. Pneumonia is confirmed, Agent. Because he recently suffered a head cold, it can be reasonably deduced that this is a bacterial infection. A course of Clairithromyasin should get him back on his feet in a few days. I'd like to give him an injection in order to speed the medication to his system, and then send him home with another week's worth of oral medication."

Hotch listened carefully, then nodded and said, "That sounds fine. Thank you."

"There is a slight problem, Agent Hotchner."

"What would that be, Doctor?"

Only Hotch noticed that Morgan had moved in close enough to hear the conversation.

"Agent Reid won't let us administer the injection, but he doesn't give us a reason. He simply refuses. Is he afraid of needles?"

Hotch was embarrassed to admit he wasn't sure. Reid certainly had every reason to be afraid of them, but at the same time, when he was using he must have injected the drugs. He shot a sideways glance at Morgan hoping he might know. Morgan simply shrugged his shoulders. There was so much the kid kept secret from his family. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I don't know. Why don't I go have a chat with him and see if I can't get to the bottom of this?"

"Hotch!" Morgan wasn't going to be left alone in the waiting room if he had anything to say about it.

The older agent gave him a calming look and turned back to the doctor, "This is Agent Morgan, Doctor. I believe if anyone can persuade Agent Reid to accept the injection, it would be him."

There were no rules against visitors during visiting hours, so the doctor graciously shook the younger Agent's hand and led both he and Hotch back to the exam room where Reid was waiting.

The kid was wide awake now, sitting up in bed, arms crossed tightly across his midsection, and occasionally coughing hard into a tissue. He looked miserable. When the older agents entered the room, he looked up at them with pathetic, nearly pouting, eyes. Without preamble, he firmly stated, "I'm not getting a shot."

Hotch shot him a warning look, and he had the common sense to drop his eyes and look ashamed.

Entering behind Hotch, Morgan said, "Hey, kid. You gave us quite a scare tonight." He ruffled Reid's hair and chuckled as the younger man huffily pushed his hair back into place. Wheeling a chair in close, Morgan sat, leaning his arms on the bed and said, "According to the doc, you're not out of the woods yet. She tells us you need to get the meds into your system as fast as possible." He gave Reid a meaningful glance.

Reid couldn't hold Morgan's eye at all and looked at Hotch instead.

Standing on the other side of the bed, Hotch said, "She tells us you're hesitant to be injected."

Reid was feeling ganged up on. He doubted they heard the whole story about the shot though. Blushing and staring at the blanket now, he sulkily mumbled, "She wants to put it in my butt."

Hotch held his expression steady and gave his youngest agent an understanding nod. Morgan, however, wasn't as successful. He sat up and grinned. To his credit, he did manage to stop the laugh that threatened.

Reid couldn't stop the whine from entering his voice, "Why can't she just put it in my arm?"

The doctor stepped forward and they all looked to her expectantly for the answer. "Doctor Reid, I've explained to you already that you are far too thin to take this shot in the arm. I'm sure you understand the problems this can cause."

The young man did not want to accept this as a valid answer, but he also couldn't argue with it. Instead, he sighed in frustration, rolled his eyes, and laid his head back on the raised pillow. He proceeded to stare at the ceiling wishing they would all just go away and let him be sick.

Hotch knew it was the illness making Reid act this way, just as his behavior last night was very likely a result of this, but he was still not willing to let it go. Firmly, he said, "Look at me, Spencer." He waited for the eye contact he expected, "I want you to stop this pouting right now. It's a simple shot. Just roll over and let the doctor do her job."

Reid knitted his brow. He couldn't believe Hotch was going to make him do this. Actually, he could believe it, but he wanted to think he could talk his way out of it. The possibility was looking grim.

Then Morgan started, "Yeah, come on kid. This shot's going to make you get better a lot faster. What's the problem? Afraid of letting the good doctor see your butt?" He grinned and gave the doctor a wink. She maintained her professional demeanor.

"Morgan!" Reid whined as he blushed. His embarrassment was cut short by another deep chested cough.

Dropping the teasing, Morgan became serious, "Come on kid. You're getting this shot. Now roll over and let's get it over with."

The only weapon Reid had left in his arsenal now was his puppy dog eyes. He used them full-force on both of his big brothers. "Please," he begged, "I don't want it. I'll take whatever medications you want. Just, please, no shot."

It was Hotch's turn. In full FBI supervisor mode, he ordered, "roll over this minute, young man. I'm not playing this game anymore."

Reid stared in shock at his boss. Hotch was really going to make his do this. Then, looking like he was about to cry, Reid complied. He kept his eyes on Hotch as he slowly moved into position. Once he was lying on his stomach, he gave Hotch a full pout, with his lip stuck out and everything.

Hotch easily forgave the slight knowing the kid would feel better a lot sooner with this injection. He placed his hand on the upset young agent's back and began rubbing soothing circles. For Reid's ears only, he said, "Thank you, Spencer."

He then gave the go-ahead to the doctor. Morgan moved out of the way as the doctor took his place. As her hands were full with the antiseptic and the syringe, Hotch gently slipped Reid's pajama bottoms down just low enough to expose a good injection site.

Reid flinched twice. Once when the cold antiseptic touched his skin, and once when the needle was plunged into his flesh. Hotch continued to comfort the kid, even as hot, angry tears slid down Reid's cheeks.

As soon as it was over, Hotch pulled his pajamas back up, and said, "It's all over, Spencer. You did well."

Reid rolled over onto his undamaged side, wiped his eyes and noisily blew his nose. He had nothing to say to any of the bullies surrounding him at the moment.

The doctor gave Hotch and Morgan instructions for further care while Reid pretended to rest on the bed. Once they finished checking him out, they bundled him up the best they could, and drove him back to Hotch's apartment.

**XOXOXOXO**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Now I have to hope my lack of medical knowledge isn't too obvious with this one. What can I say? My parents were hippies who didn't believe in modern medicine. Ask me about herbs, vitamins, horoscopes and crystals, and I can give you a relatively educated answer. But this stuff? Not so much. **

**Please be kind in your reviews, but please do review – whatever you have to say.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Honestly, I had no idea I would be able to publish this today, but I think the adrenaline rush of knowing today is the last day of classes for me, really helped. Yay! Now on to Internship until November. sigh Still, I can hardly believe I will have my Masters before Thanksgiving this year. Sorry if this is a little rough, but I wrote it much faster than most of my chapters.**

**Anyway, this is my little way to celebrate. If you'd like to get me something, I happily accept reviews – hint, hint! Hope you enjoy!**

**I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.**

**XOXOXOXO**

While Hotch was getting Reid back home and tucked into bed, Morgan made a side trip to pick up the young man's prescriptions, orange juice and chicken soup. Arriving at Hotch's apartment, Morgan quietly checked in on Reid and found his little brother sound asleep. Next, he rooted out Hotch sitting at the dining room table rubbing his eyes over the book in his hand. "What're you reading?" he asked.

Closing the book, Hotch turned red, tired eyes up to the younger agent. Showing him the cover, he said, "Under the Influence".

Morgan looked over the other recovery books scattered across the table. "What're you doin', Hotch?"

Hotch gazed at Morgan waiting for the younger man to explain the question.

"You were up most of the night. You're exhausted." Seeing Hotch about to protest, he quickly asserted, "Go to bed, man. I'll hold down the fort."

Surprising Morgan, Hotch conceded. Rising from the table with visible effort, the older man clapped him on the arm in passing. He was almost out of the room, when he turned around, "What time is Reid due to take his first dose?"

Chuckling at Hotch's hyper-vigilance, he said, "Later tonight. Don't worry about it Hotch. I'll still be here." Watching Hotch go, he opened his cell to call Garcia and asked her to let the team know that he and Hotch would be taking care of Reid today.

Concern in her voice, she asked, "Why? What's happened to my baby boy?"

"Calm down, girl." Morgan soothed, "He's just a little sick."

"And you both have to stay with him? Come on, Sugar Bear. What's really going on?"

Morgan smiled thinking once again that Garcia would have made a decent profiler herself. At least she was really good at reading her family. "He has pneumonia, baby girl. Hotch took him to the hospital last night. He's going to be fine; he's just going to need a lot of care for a little while."

Relieved, she said, "Okay, I'll let everyone know. Call if my boy needs anything."

Hanging up, Morgan sighed. He took Hotch's seat at the table and picked up a book. It was time he learned more about this disease that had his little brother in its grip.

XOXOXOXO

Forty five minutes later Morgan jumped from his seat, startled by a strangled cry. He bolted down the hall to Reid's room as fast as he could, but found Hotch already there. The older man was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding down one of Reid's thrashing arms with one hand, and gently stroking the crying young man's face while trying to wake him. Morgan stood helplessly watching from the door.

"Spencer. You're okay. Wake up, kiddo." Hotch kept his voice soft and calm.

As concerned as he was for the kid, Morgan couldn't help but grin. He had never seen their unyielding boss act like this before.

"H-Hotch! Get it off!" With his free hand, Reid flayed at the air above him.

"Spencer. I'm here. I've got you. Come on, look at me. Look at me." Hotch coaxed.

Suddenly, the frightened young man's eyes flew open. Searching the room, his eyes ultimately latched onto Hotch's face. He took a deep breath, and then sat up fighting a coughing fit. Pathetically, he leaned his head on Hotch's chest and started to cry even as his coughing subsided. Hotch comfortingly rubbed his back. "I-I'm s-sorry." He eventually cried out, and then started violently coughing again.

Hotch looked at Morgan. Quietly he requested, "Can you get the cough syrup from the medicine chest?" As Morgan hurried to retrieve the bottle, Hotch held Reid close and rubbed his back as he desperately struggle against coughing and crying.

Returning with the medicine and a spoon, Morgan poured it and held the spoon out, "Open up, kid."

Hotch gently pushed Reid away and encouraged him to take the medication.

Embarrassed at having Morgan 'feed' him, Reid reached for the filled spoon. Before he could grasp it though, he succumbed to another coughing fit. Morgan quickly and smoothly slipped the spoon into the kid's mouth.

Startled, Reid swallowed the cherry flavored liquid. He was amazed at how quickly it pacified his cough. He tried to wipe away the tears as surreptitiously as he could, "I-I-"

"Reid, it's okay, man. What were you dreaming about?" Morgan asked.

Looking up at Morgan with wide, frightened eyes, Reid quietly breathed, "Bears. Well, one bear this time. It was sitting on my chest." Remembering the terror of the dream, he wheezed heavily.

As Hotch placed the palm of his hand on the young man's forehead, Morgan asked, "Again? What is it with you and bears kid?"

Reid shrugged. He honestly didn't know why it was always bears.

"Is that what you were dreaming about last night too?" Hotch hadn't realized there was an ongoing theme to his nightmares.

Dropping his eyes to the blankets, Reid sadly nodded his head. He was embarrassed to always be disturbing Morgan and Hotch with his nightmares. He would stop them if he could.

"Your fever's back up Spencer." He grabbed a couple of Ibuprofin from the bedside table and handed them to Reid. After he swallowed them, Hotch pressed the young man back down onto the bed, pulled the blankets up to cover him and said, "Try to get some more sleep if you can. Morgan and I will be nearby if you need anything."

Reid's eyelids felt extremely heavy. As he shut them, he offered a weak nod and quickly fell asleep.

XOXOXOXO

Reid slept off and on most of the day without any more nightmares. Hotch and Morgan took turns making sure he took in enough fluids and remained relatively comfortable. In between they worked on office paperwork and reviewed more of Hotch's accumulated books. When Reid was feeling better, they would both be ready to help him tackle his addiction.

Remembering Jack's old baby monitor in storage, Hotch took a short break to riffle through the boxes until he found it. Thinking the device might embarrass Reid, he snuck it into his room while he was sleeping and hid it behind a lamp. There was no need for the young man to know it was there, and the two older men would no longer feel the need to continuously press an ear against his door.

At 6pm Hotch started dinner while Morgan turned on the basketball game. He had just settled in when there was a rapid knock at the door. From the kitchen, Hotch said, "Get that, will you Morgan?"

Morgan looked through the peep hole before happily opening the door and greeting Garcia, "Hey Mama! What're you doin' here?"

Bustling in, arms loaded down with a large covered basket, she wasted no time in getting to the point, "How's my sweet, sickly boy doing?"

Morgan followed her into the kitchen, "His fever is lower now, but he's still sleeping a lot."

Dropping her basket on the counter, she looked at Hotch, "Sleeping is good." She turned to Morgan, "How high is the fever?"

"Last time I checked it was 100.3," Morgan responded.

"And when was that?" Garcia briskly continued.

Morgan glanced helplessly at Hotch who tried hard not to grin. Returning his attention to Garcia, he stammered out, "Uh, a-about three hours ago."

"Boys! I should have known better than to leave my sick baby in your hands." Turning to Hotch, "where's the thermometer?"

Refusing to stammer, he carefully answered, "In the bathroom." And added before she could chastise him for something, "disinfecting."

"Right. I'll be right back. Do not touch my basket." She ordered as she marched her way toward her mission.

Both men looked at the mysterious basket with raised eyebrows and softly chuckled. Morgan went back to the game as Hotch tossed the chicken and vegetables into the oven.

He grinned as he listened to Garcia over the baby monitor.

XOXOXOXO

She sat on the side of the bed, gently placing a hand on his forehead. "Reid?" she whispered, "I need to take your temperature."

"Garcia?" he moaned.

"Don't open your eyes, sweetie, just open your mouth." He did as directed, and she carefully put the device in place. Pressing up on the young man's chin to encourage him to close his mouth, she talked to him, "How're you feeling? No, wait. Don't answer that yet."

As Garcia removed the thermometer, Reid broke into a deep and violent cough. Garcia became concerned at he began to turn red. She could tell the cough wasn't nearly as productive as it needed to be to help him get rid of the infection. When the attack subsided, he groaned and weakly lay back on his pillow, trying to breathe without restarting the cough.

"Oh, my poor boy," she soothed as she rubbed circles in his aching chest. "I have just the thing for you, but first you need to drink more water. Here you go." She handed him the sports bottle and waited while he took small sips. "Now, you're not going to be able to get out of bed for the next half hour, so let me know now if you need to use the restroom first."

Her bluntness disconcerted the young man. He blushed and spluttered out, "N-no, I'm – I'm fine. Garcia, what are you planning to do?"

"It won't exactly be comfortable, but I promise it'll be over quickly and you'll start feeling a lot better by tomorrow. Your temperature is down to 99.2, so it's safe, but you'll have to be brave for me for a little while. Now, wait for a few minutes while I go get my things."

Whatever she had planned didn't sound at all like something Reid felt like doing. As she stood to leave, he quickly asked, "Wh-what are you planning to do?"

Smiling sweetly, she answered, "Honey, I'm going to bring you a mustard plaster." As Reid's eyes went wide, she hurried out of the room, "You'll be fine darling." And she was gone.

"Hotch! Hotch!" Reid rasped out as loudly as he could as he tried to sit up.

Hotch was on his way as soon as he heard the words "mustard plaster" coming out of the baby monitor.

Meeting Garcia in the hall, Hotch stopped in front of her, "You know I trust you." Receiving a nod from her, he continued, "We need to talk about this before you do anything." With that, he rushed past Garcia and into Reid's bedroom.

Morgan, startled by all the activity, met Garcia on her way to the kitchen, "What's going on, baby girl?" He demanded.

"I think a few of the brave men in this family are afraid of a little mustard plaster. Reid, I understand, but Hotch?"

From the baby monitor they could hear Hotch comforting the sick young man, "It's okay, Spencer. Calm down now."

"Hotch! Do you know what she wants to do to me?" Reid let out a short but deep chested cough.

Grimly he answered, "A mustard plaster. I heard. Don't worry, Spencer. She won't do anything until we talk about it first. Now lay back down and try to relax, okay?"

"Ah." Morgan understood now, and thinking back to his own childhood, he also appreciated the upset. "Umm, Garcia? Do you really think he's up to this? I mean, he was just in the hospital last night."

"Yeah, and his temperature is too low now. Stupid antibiotics do more harm than good." She set to work warming up the poultice. "I know what I'm doing, Morgan. Make him a big glass of this, please?" She handed him a package of orange flavored electrolyte powder.

Shrugging, Morgan went about doing as he was told. The kid wasn't going to be happy about this, but Morgan had survived it many times as a child. Surly Reid could take a few minutes of discomfort without too much of a fight.

When she was satisfied with the temperature, Garcia spread the strong-smelling paste on a large cotton towel.

Morgan crinkled his nose, "What did you put in that, girl? Doesn't smell like my mom's"

Nearly giggling with pride, Garcia answered, "That's my secret ingredient. Horseradish." Seeing the concerned look on Morgan's face, she continued, "Oh relax, will you? I made it half-strength. You think I want to torture the boy?" She folded the poultice up inside the cloth, "See. With it sealed up, I bet it's nowhere near as bad as you remember it. Right? Right?"

"Uh, yeah. Right. I guess." Morgan was still dubious.

Entering the kitchen, Hotch looked as doubtful as the younger man. Garcia stopped him before he could start, "Hotch, I know what you're going to say, but it's not as bad as you remember it, I swear."

Reasonably, Hotch responded, "Garcia, my mother never used mustard plasters. Her mother did, and what I do remember from her stories is that these can severely burn the skin."

Valiantly coming to her rescue, Morgan stepped forward, "Hotch, if they're made right," he turned a warning look on Garcia, "and if they're watched carefully, they don't burn at all. Should just bring his temperature up a little and loosen up his chest. As long as he's drinking this," He held up the large glass of electrolytes, "we're monitoring his temperature every couple of minutes, and keeping an eye on the exposed skin, he'll be fine. Should feel a lot better by tomorrow too. He'll be uncomfortable, but it only lasts for a half hour. A small price to pay for the benefits we'll see tomorrow."

Garcia recognized when Hotch was ready to give in, so she pushed forward, "While you two have been talking, my plaster has been cooling. We need to get a move on if this is going to work." She led the way back to Reid's bedroom, her basket of goodies in hand.

They found the young man lightly snoozing. Garcia sat on the edge of the bed, laid her basket down and carefully pulled the covers down to reveal his cotton pajama covered chest. The older men loomed overhead as she gently unbuttoned his shirt. The cool air hitting his exposed skin awoke the young man.

Morgan quickly moved to the other side of the bed as Reid stirred. He watched as his friend realized what Garcia was doing to him, and pre-emptively warned, "Reid, it's okay, man. Just relax."

Reid turn large, frightened eyes up to Morgan, and then over to Hotch. Realizing they were supporting her in this, he panicked. Pushing Garcia's hands away the best he could, he said, "No! Stop Garcia! I don't want it!"

Morgan quickly bent over the young man, firmly grasped his wrists, and ordered, "Hey! Look at me, kid."

Automatically sliding his eyes over to do as he was told, he immediately felt foolish for reacting so childishly. But he had only ever heard horror stories about mustard plasters. "Morgan," he nearly cried, "I-I don't want it. Please don't make me." One small tear escaped and ran down his cheek.

Feeling like a bully for making his little brother feel so helpless, he sat on the bed and released Reid's wrists, "We're not going to make you do anything you don't want to do, kid."

The fog Reid had felt when he was having a fever was clearly lifting, because he snapped back, "You made me get that shot last night!" The pout immediately returned.

Hotch stepped in to answer, "Your fever was dangerously high. You needed that shot and you weren't thinking clearly at the time. I made the decision I thought was best."

Dropping his eyes to the comforter, Reid whispered, "You were right. I needed that shot. I'm sorry I acted like a baby."

Hotch still felt slightly guilty for putting Reid through that last night, "You weren't feeling well, kiddo. There's nothing to forgive."

Morgan pressed forward, "Now, you want to tell me why this mustard plaster scares you so much?"

Reid spouted out statistics about burning and blistering skin and the uses of mustard gas in World War II. He was rambling. Morgan waylaid him with, "Unless you have any relevant statistics, you need to stop this now and listen to me kid." He waited a moment to let Reid's look of frustration pass, and then said, "My mom used these on me when I got sick, and yeah, they're no fun. But I guarantee it will be over before you know it, and you will feel better a lot faster. I promise you won't get burned or blistered, and we'll be right here with you the entire time. Okay?"

Reid swallowed hard, but nodded his agreement to proceed.

Garcia, worried about the reduced heat in her poultice, quickly went to work applying it. She laid the cloth on his chest, covered it with another cloth and pulled the heavy blanket up to his neck.

Reid meekly let her work while he looked from one face in the room to the next gathering the confidence in this process from them that he lacked.

As soon as she finished she told Morgan to give him some of the electrolyte fluid. As she had pinned Reid's arms under the covers, he held the glass with a bendy straw up to his mouth. He took a sip, and found he enjoyed the flavor of the cool drink.

It was less than three minutes into the process that Reid began to feel the heat. Bravely, he accepted it without complaint. After five minutes, Hotch popped the thermometer in his mouth while Garcia inspected the skin underneath the poultice. His temperature had risen only .2 degrees and his skin was only slightly pink. She replaced the blankets, and the three healthy members of the team chatted while Reid listened and tried not to squirm out from under the increasing heat. He coughed violently a couple of times which had everyone in the room looking concernedly at him, but as it calmed down they went back to chatting.

Another five minutes passed and they checked his temperature and skin again. Still, there was no reason to worry. Reid, however, was not so certain. He couldn't believe his temperature had risen so very little. Something was definitely wrong with that thermometer. He was loathe to complain though and stoically tried to ignore the discomfort by listening to the banter of his three friends. It helped a bit that Morgan continued to provide him with the electrolytes.

He very nearly gave into his desire to throw the blankets off when Garcia announced it was time to check him again. All was well, so she said, "Okay kiddo, take your shirt off and turn over."

Not understanding, Reid looked at her in confusion.

"We need to put it on your back now." She explained.

He was too tired to fight any more. He sat up and removed his shirt while Garcia produced another cotton towel from what seemed an endless supply, and laid it on the bed to protect the sheets. He lay down on his stomach and let her do her thing. Again, every five minutes they checked to make sure he was not being damaged in any way.

Eight minutes in the discomfort was starting to get to him. Reid was starting to feel twitchy, angry, pouty and anxious all at once. When he moved his legs trying to find a cooler place for them, he was frustrated to not only not find a more comfortable spot but to also feel Morgan's hand firmly grip his calf.

"Almost done, kid. Try to relax."

"Morgan!" He wined, "I'm hot!" He was overcome by a coughing fit that worked to frustrate him even more. "Can't it be done now?"

"I know It's hard, Spencer," it was Hotch, "but if you can put up with it for just a few more minutes, I'm told you'll appreciate it tomorrow."

Reid tried to reaffirm his dedication to seeing this to the end.

Seeing how uncomfortable she had made her baby brother made Garcia squirm. She wanted nothing more than to throw the blankets off of him and tell him it was all over. Morgan saw this and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. She sadly smiled up at him. It would only be a few minutes more.

When it was all over, Garcia pulled the covers back, removed the poultice, and said, "There! All done! That wasn't so bad, was it?" She smiled down at the young man and was thanked with an angry glare.

Morgan saw this, and said, "That's enough of that, kid! I know it was uncomfortable, but you survived. Stop acting like a brat."

Reid licked his dry lips and lowered his eyes, but he still felt abused and wasn't ready to apologize yet.

Feeling bad about having caused him so much discomfort, Garcia said, "Well, you'll feel better in the morning, baby. I promise." She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the back of the head. "Morgan, will you get him cleaned up, please?"

The oven timer drew both she and Hotch out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, leaving Reid alone with a disappointed Morgan. "Kid, she didn't deserve that. You owe her an apology."

"I know," he whispered. Reid felt bad for hurting her like that when she was only trying to help him. "C-can I go down and talk to her?"

Smiling at his soft-hearted friend, Morgan said, "Not yet. We need to get you cleaned up first. If any of that stuff got on your skin, you will burn. Come on, let's get you into the shower." He helped Reid to stand and let the kid lean heavily on him while they walked into the bathroom. Seeing how difficult it was for Reid to stand, he changed his mind about the shower, and instead ran him a bubble bath.

After strongly insisting that he could manage the rest himself, Reid convinced Morgan to leave him alone. Morgan left the door open a crack just in case and then went to change Reid's bed sheets. He had every reason to believe the kid would start feeling a lot better much faster than the doctors ever predicted.

**XOXOXOXO**

**My mom the witch doctor, she told me what to do! LOL (For those of you too young to remember, that's part of an old song. My family used to sing it to my mom whenever she pulled out one of her home remedies). If you ever want to try a mustard plaster, I URGE you to research it very carefully first. They can be very dangerous if you don't know what you're doing.**

**That being said, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading, and I look forward to hearing from you.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello gentle readers:**

**Your patience and encouragement have been greatly appreciated while I have struggled with real life. I am happy to report that I have left my wonderful job (yes, I worked for the devil. Doesn't mean it wasn't a great job. Lol), and am ½ finished with my internship. Time is now beginning to free itself for my enjoyment again.**

**Thank you to all who have kindly reviewed and privately messaged. It is you who have inspired me to continue writing amidst the squall.**

**I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.**

**XOXOXOXO**

Hotch placed the bowl of warm broth and glass of orange juice on the wooden tray before serving up the chicken dinner to the rest of his guests. "Morgan, will you take this up to Reid, please?"

Morgan hesitated, "You think the kid should eat alone in his room, Hotch?"

The older man considered this for a moment before answering, "He's not strong enough to be out of bed yet, Morgan. What do you suggest?"

XOXOXOXO

Morgan carried the tray into his little brother's room. The kid was tucked snuggly back into bed after his bath, and was already sound asleep. The older agent laid the dinner down on the dresser before returning to the hall for the folding table. Garcia followed closely with four place settings. As she quietly arranged these, Morgan placed the tray in the middle of the table. Hotch carried three folding chairs with one hand and a bottle of wine with the other. He placed the wine on the table and handed the chairs to Morgan who went about setting them up.

Hotch leaned over the sleeping young man and placed his hand gently on the boy's cheek. He was relieved to detect only a slight fever.

Reid's eyes fluttered open at the light touch. When he was able to focus, he glanced around the room. Weakly, he asked, "What's going on?"

"Dinner time, kid," Morgan answered, "Can you sit up?"

He wasn't eager to eat, but after all the effort they'd put into setting up the table in his room, Reid wasn't about to turn them down. Besides, he knew they wouldn't let him if he tried. With Hotch's help, he sat up and leaned back against the pillows. He was grateful when Garcia presented him with a bowl of broth. Eating solid food seemed like a near impossibility right now.

They chatted lightly about nothing in particular as they ate. Reid felt tired and heavy, but the company made him feel somewhat better. The older members of the party surreptitiously kept an eye on the young man making sure he was eating but not becoming too tired. It took Reid as long to finish the small bowl of soup as it took the rest to finish their meals.

Seeing Reid finish, Garcia offered, "Can I get you some more, baby doll?"

Setting the bowl on the table and wiping his mouth with the napkin, he silently declined with a shake of his head.

Everyone could tell the young agent was exhausted and needed to sleep. Hotch got the room moving with, "Let's let Reid rest. We can have dessert in the living room."

Reid looked up at his boss with appreciative eyes. He really didn't think he could stay awake much longer.

Hotch watched him snuggle back down under the covers, but caught the young man with a gentle warning, "Don't fall asleep yet. You have another dose of medication to take tonight."

Reid pulled a face, but without much effort behind it. The relaxed dinner, and perhaps the wine, must have affected Hotch because he lightly chuckled at the half-hearted display of attitude.

With military-like precision, the three healthy members of the team cleared the table and removed the folding furniture from the room. In the kitchen Morgan handed Garcia the next dose of medication, "Make sure he takes this, Garcia?"

Uncertainly, she worried, "Oh, uhh, are you sure it should be me? I mean, I think he's still mad at me for the whole mustard plaster thing."

An understanding smile crossed his face, "Go on, beautiful. And if he gives you any trouble, you let me know, got it?"

With a nervous smile, she nodded and resolutely headed back into the bedroom.

Morgan and Hotch listened to the baby monitor as they cleaned the kitchen.

XOXOXOXO

Garcia bubbled into the bedroom with the medication. "Okay Sweet Potato, down the hatch," she ordered in her own unique way. Placing it on the bedside table she freed her hands to help the young man sit up.

Reid felt weak and dizzy but he managed to sit. Garcia handed him the pill and water and watched carefully as he swallowed both. Reid handed the glass back to his friend and gave her a shy smile, "Thanks Garcia."

She responded with, "Any time Angel Face." Affectionately, she brushed a stray hair out of his eyes as she helped him lay back down.

As she turned to leave, the analyst heard a quiet, "I'm sorry, Garcia." Confused and not quite sure she heard correctly, she returned to the bed. Seeing her puzzled expression, Reid clarified, "I-I'm sorry I acted so badly when you were trying to help me."

With a relieved smile, she replied, "Oh baby bear, no need to be sorry. You just concentrate on feeling better." She leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead, and then wiped off the bright lipstick smudge.

Garcia headed home happy that night. Morgan couldn't be convinced to leave, so he slept restlessly on the couch.

XOXOXOXO

Morgan awoke to the wafting scent of toast. Groggily, he made his way into the kitchen to find a fully-suited Hotch quietly making himself breakfast. Clearing his throat, Morgan asked, "What ya doin?"

Hotch looked up from spreading jam on his toast, "I need to go into the office this morning. The paperwork is piling up. Do you mind staying with Reid today? I'll try to leave early."

Morgan chuckled lightly wondering what 'early' meant for his over-worked boss, "Sure Hotch. I'll take care of the kid. Call me if a case comes up though. I'm sure Garcia wouldn't mind babysitting if she needed to."

Hotch grimaced at the use of 'babysitting', and admonished, "Don't let Reid hear you say that." He grinned as he took a bite of his toast.

Morgan returned the grin and looked at the clock, "It's about time for his next dose." He opened the bottle of antibiotics and poured a glass of juice. As he headed toward Reid's room he said, "Later Hotch. Call if you need anything."

"Thanks Morgan," The older man was feeling vaguely guilty about leaving his sick charge to go to work, "you do the same." He gathered his coat, briefcase and mug of coffee, and headed out the door.

XOXOXOXO

Hotch's day was filled with piles of paperwork and a plethora of meetings. He barely had time to breathe let alone check in on Reid. So, when he arrived home, true to his word, early – well, 5:30 was early for him – he was surprised to find both of his coworkers sitting on the couch enjoying a movie. Reid was curled up under a soft blanket with his head resting on a pile of pillows, but his color was back to normal and his cough sounded far better. Something smelled good too. Taking a deep whiff, Hotch asked, "What's for dinner?"

Morgan answered, "Chicken Gumbo," and gave Reid a sideways glance.

Without lifting his head off the pillows, Reid matter-of-factly filled in, "He's trying to kill me." Offering no further details, the young man returned his attention to the television.

Making eye contact with Morgan, Hotch raised a questioning eyebrow.

Morgan scoffed as he walked into the kitchen to stir the large pot of bubbling stew, "He thinks I made it too spicy. And before you get all protective, trust me on this Hotch, it's fine. It'll help clear out what little is left of that infection after Garcia's treatment last night."

Hotch shook his head in disbelief, "Reid really is looking a lot better tonight. The doctor thought it would take several days for him to get to this point. What's his temperature?"

"99.5, a couple of hours ago. It's been going down steadily all day."

Grudgingly impressed by the healing powers of natural remedies at the loving hands of their tech analyst, Hotch still believed the antibiotics probably had more to do with Reid's speedy recovery than anything else. He silently warned himself not to bring the topic up with Garcia - ever. Turning his attention back to Morgan, he informed, "Good, because we have a case. I want Reid to sit this one out, but I think he'll be okay alone for a couple of days."

Shaking a few more drops of Tabasco into the pot, Morgan chuckled, "I'll let you break the news to him. He's not going to like being left behind."

Hotch clapped his coworker on the shoulder and answered, "I'm not giving him a choice." He slipped out of the kitchen and into his bedroom to change into more comfortable clothing before the inevitable dissent started.

XOXOXOXO

"I'm fine, Hotch! The medications are working! By tomorrow I'll be as good as new!"

Hotch laid a comforting hand on the young man's back as he succumbed to another coughing fit. As it subsided, the older man definitively stated, "You are sitting this one out." Seeing the determined look in Reid's eye, Hotch raised a warning finger, "That's it. End of discussion."

The internal war between wanting to obey and wanting to fight was clear on Reid's face. Hotch breathed a sigh of relief when the younger man chose the former. "Good. There are plenty of books in my office. You may even find one or two that you haven't read yet. You're welcome to watch movies or just sleep. I'll make sure the kitchen is stocked up, and you are not allowed to drink coffee all day long . . . " As Hotch talked he watched the dark cloud descend over Reid's face. He looked truly unhappy. Gently, the older man asked, "What is it, Spencer?"

"You're leaving me here alone?" There was apprehension in the question.

Hotch was taken aback by the evident emotion. Pausing to really look at the kid, he saw something deeper was gnawing at him, "What's going on in that head of yours right now?"

Blushing at how obvious he had been in his worry, Reid dropped his eyes to the living room floor. "I – uh – what if I, you know . . . what if the cravings come back?"

Hotch's piercing gaze immediately bore into the young man. There was something more he wasn't saying. He waited.

Reid could feel his mentor scrutinizing him and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't dare look into the older man's face, but he felt compelled to anyway. What he saw there made him freeze. Hotch would know if he held anything back, and he would be disappointed in Reid if he did. Swallowing hard, the younger man somehow garnered the courage to continue, "I – I wanted to use today, Hotch." He had whispered the confession.

Hotch stayed silent, indicating with a slight nod that the boy should continue.

Once he started his confession, the rest seemed to effortlessly pour from him, "I know, I should have told Morgan, but I wasn't sure what I was feeling at first. It was just a slight pull. I didn't really even know what I was being pulled toward. When he left me alone in the living room to start dinner, I noticed my concentration starting to drift, and I was thinking about the places I could go to get a fix, and – and then you came home – and I didn't really think about it again until just now." He was staring at the floor again. Ashamed. "I'm sorry, Hotch."

"Look at me, Spencer," Hotch gently ordered as he laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The young man's eyes glistened with unshed tears as Hotch continued, "I'm proud of you for admitting this. I don't expect you to know the second a craving starts. It will take time for you to start recognizing the very early signs. You told me as soon as you knew what it was. Perhaps next time you'll be able to identify it even earlier. You are raising your awareness of it right now by holding yourself accountable to me. I am satisfied for now that you are willing to trust me with this." He tendered a small, forgiving smile to the young man.

That forgiveness was all Reid needed to make him dissolve into quiet tears of relief and gratitude. He fell into Hotch's arms and accepted the embrace he was offered.

**XOXOXOXO**

**Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed, please review. If you would suggest improvements or ideas, I welcome your missive.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, and thank you again for all the wonderful reviews and the patience (what? Posting once a month to this story isn't enough?)**

**Two very special thank you's: The first, as always, goes to Maia2 for her continued excellent beta-ing. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the second set of eyes you provide! **

**The second is for Maxandkiz for graciously allowing me to pull from her story "Turning Back Time". It is a charming and clever yarn that I highly recommend! The amusement park scene in this chapter is all hers. **

**I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. I think it's pretty clear that they own me.**

**XOXOXOXO**

After dinner Hotch finally convinced Morgan he needed to go home and get ready to leave with the team in the morning. Sending Reid to his room to take his next dose of meds, Hotch walked Morgan to the door and quietly explained that he and Rossi would have to take the lead on this case. He felt it was a bad time to leave Reid alone with his cravings coming back, and he wasn't going to risk the infection coming back from the stress of travel and working a case.

Knowing his current state, Morgan wasn't happy about being asked to leave the kid behind, but he understood his boss' priorities as well. Someone had to go and someone had to stay. This arrangement made the most sense. Morgan was determined to wrap the case up as fast as possible so he could continue watching over his little brother. He made Hotch promise to call with updates or if Reid took a bad turn while they were away.

Hotch made his promises and ushered him out the door. Now he had to figure out how to break it to Reid while minimizing the guilt he was sure to feel over supposedly taking his boss away from a case. Sighing, he made his way to the young man's bedroom.

He found Reid lying in bed, propped up and reading a book. "Tired?" he asked.

Reid looked up from his book and granted, "a little." He kept his attention on his boss sensing he had something he wanted to share.

Now would be the perfect time to break the news to Reid that he was staying, but Hotch didn't want to upset him and possibly prevent his healing coworker from getting a good night's sleep. Instead, looking at his watch he said, "Maybe you should turn in early tonight."

Offering a weak grin, Reid asked, "Is that an order?"

Knowing he was deliberately keeping information from Reid, Hotch missed the humor and unenthusiastically returned with, "I want you to listen to what your body needs right now. If that's a little extra sleep, then you should take it."

Noting Hotch's subdued mood, Reid nodded his head and simply said, "Yes, sir. I'll just finish this book first."

That got a little grin from the older man. The book in question was at least 1000 pages, and Reid was only half way through it. He should be done within the hour, thought Hotch. "That's fine. Sleep well." He gave the young man a sincere pat on the shoulder and shut the door as he left the room.

XOXOXOXO

Reid seemed to float in and out of his 12-year-old self. Sometimes he was watching from outside, but most of the time re-living from inside the horror of that day. The boys running seemingly from every direction. Tackling him to the ground, their sweaty bodies pressed the air out of his lungs. From outside the scrum he could hear the cheers and laughter pouring from the on-lookers.

He couldn't imagine what he had done to deserve this kind of attention. The teasing and occasional shove in the hallways he could handle. But this? He stopped trying to make sense of it when he felt his clothing being ripped from his scrawny body. They were all so big, and there were so many of them, his pleas for mercy were drowned out by their jeers. He tried not to cry, but as the last of the clothing was torn from his body, and he was left naked, he could no longer stop the tears.

But his tormentors were not yet finished with their fun. One of them produced a roll of duct tape while another supplied a long rope. They easily wrestled him to one of the goal posts, wrapped his arms around it, and taped his hands behind his back. He struggled to free himself from this as they wound the rope tightly around his body essentially attaching him to the post. As his ability to move was taken from him, Reid wondered what they planned to do with him next.

To his relief – if that was what it could be called – all they did was point, laugh and make jokes about his helpless body. Soon enough, they became bored and slowly filtered away. He was left alone on the football field watching the sun set as he continued to struggle with his bindings.

It was nearly 10:00 before he freed himself, gathered his tattered clothing about him, and slunk home diving behind trees and bushes whenever he heard a car coming. He wanted nothing more than to run into his mother's arms and let her comfort him.

As he approached his home he was filled with dread. Every light in the house was on. He could see his mother pacing the living room, grabbing at her hair and shaking her head. Moving in closer to the window, he could hear her talking very quickly to someone. He felt the tears well up in his eyes again as he realized he was on his own again tonight. His mother would probably be more normal by tomorrow night, but there would be no comfort for him when he most needed it.

Quietly, he stole around to the back porch and crawled into the hammock he called home on nights like these.

As he cried himself to sleep he looked around at the changing scene. He was in a large bed. A hotel room? He also noticed an intense need to use the facilities. Kicking the covers off he slid his feet to the floor and was shocked at how far he fell. He stood silently for a moment trying to take in the new information. Looking down, he found the body of a 3-year-old.

Some tiny part of his brain told him he was still dreaming, but a much larger part told him he needed to investigate what was going on here. Walking to the door, he reached up to the doorknob and cautiously looked out onto the common area of a hotel suite.

Standing around the room was his BAU team. Everyone was still an adult, and this didn't seem strange at all to Reid.

He looked up at Hotch's back and his boss turned. There was a big grin on the older man's face as he approached, "Good. You're up from your nap. Are you ready to head to the park?" Reid was only a little surprised when Hotch picked him up and placed him in a stroller filled with stuffed animals.

"Here you go, my brave little panda," Garcia handed him a juice box, some string cheese and a few animal crackers.

Reid blinked up at her, "Fant you." He said. That wasn't right. He tried again, quieter this time, "F-fant . . . Fant . . . " Why couldn't he speak correctly?

The stroller started to move out the door, down the hall, and to the door of a van. Morgan strapped his tiny body into a child confinement devise as the rest of the team found their seats. Hotch drove the van, but Reid wasn't able to see out any of the windows. He squirmed a bit trying to push himself up higher.

Emily looked down at the movement and asked, "Are you okay, kiddo? Do you need something?" She looked helplessly up at Morgan who was now paying attention too.

Feeling self-conscious, Reid gave up on the struggle, "No, I'm otay." Again, he crinkled his brow at his mispronunciation. Looking around the van, he realized that no one else seemed to notice. He sighed and decided to see where this was taking him.

As dreams will do he suddenly found himself walking through the gates of a large amusement park. Glancing at the sign overhead his eyes became saucers as he read "Disney World".

"Reid! Get back here!" Morgan yelled, racing after the boy. Swearing under his breath, he muscled his way through the sea of people followed closely by the rest of the team, all searching for any sign of the mop haired youngster. Derek muttered 'excuse me's as he squeezed between and around couples and families. He had to, no he was going to find Spencer and when he did, he was going to kill him for taking off like that. Finally seeing a break in the crowd up ahead, he hurried forward before stopping as he came to a curb lined by several imaginatively dressed scarecrows. The profiler carefully scanned the area around him, letting out a relieved breath when he caught sight of his missing friend standing in front of the Halloween decorations. "Over here!" he called to the others as he hurried to the wayward toddler's side.

Spencer smiled up at his team mates, unaware of the panic he'd caused. "Loot! Awen't fey…" he broke off with a yelp as a firm hand landed a hard swat to his bottom. Spinning around, the little boy looked at the culprit in shock for a moment before turning tear filled eyes on the young blond beside him. "JJ, he hit me!" Reid whined, pointing an accusing finger at Hotch.

JJ leaned down and scooped up the upset toddler. "Spence, you can't run off like that." She gently scolded.

"Wun *sniff* off?" Reid repeated, as he swiped his arm across his face in an attempt to stop the tears that were running down his cheeks. "I just tame ovew hewe to loot at fese."

"Spencer, you cannot go off by yourself, not the way you are now. You could be hurt or worse kidnapped." Hotch angrily told the boy.

"We'we at Disney. Nofing bad tan ha'en hewe." Reid argued.

"Really?" Hotch challenged. "Tell me, what are the statistics for children kidnapped from public places?"

Spencer sighed. "Of the one point five million chil'wen tidnapped each yeaw, seven'y pewcent awe taten from public places. And *sniff* most of the tids tidnapped by stangews awe se…abused and tilled." He recited before turning huge, sad eyes on his boss. "I'm sowwy. I just *sniff* wanted to see."

Taking the toddler from JJ, Hotch hugged the crying child. "It's okay, Spencer." He soothed, rubbing the little boy's back.

Frowning at his friend's tear streaked face; Morgan reached over and ruffled the toddler's hair. "Hey come on man, what's with the water works? Hotch didn't pop you that hard, did he?" he asked.

"N-no" Reid hiccupped, swiping the back of his hand across his face. "Fat attually didn't huwt. It's just fis baby body lites to leat." Glancing up at Hotch he sighed. "I'm sowwy I wan off, Hotch. I didn't mean to wowwy you guys" (Maxandkiz, Turning Back Time, Ch. 9).

Reid started to feel frightened as the amusement park rides and all of the people hazily began to morph into very tall trees. The safety he felt with his friends forgotten, he crouched down low behind a nearby fallen tree. He was alone in the dark forest, but he intuitively knew he was in danger. Something was after him. He felt it creeping undetected through the dense foliage. No sound gave it away, but he knew it was there.

He looked around for any kind of protection or defensive weapon. The best he could do was to make himself as small as possible. This would be much easier if he were a toddler again, he thought vaguely. The panic was starting to set in. He tried to remember to breathe, but it was impossible. What did it matter anyway when he was so certain he was about to die a horrible bloody death?

Near the top of a distant hill he could see two familiar figures climbing. It was Hotch and Morgan! They could help! But how was he going to get their attention without also attracting the attention of the beast that was after him? He thought about yelling, but they were too far away to hear. He also thought about making a run for it. If he could close some of the distance between them, they might notice his danger and come to help. But what if they didn't? They were almost to the top of that hill, and within moments they would disappear to the other side. Staring up at the two men, he willed them to stop and turn around. They simply continued to climb.

The creature was almost on top of him now! He tried desperately to cram his adult body under the fallen tree, but it was impossible.

It was here! Reid dared to look up. Buried deep in the vegetation before him were two of the most gigantic bears he had ever seen. Teeth bared, drool spilling from their maws, they growled menacingly. Reid froze. And then he did the only thing he could think to do. He clamped his eyes tightly shut and shrieked out, "Hotch!"

He heard the bears charge for him and braced for the impact.

Suddenly, his prayers were answered. Hotch was there. He was standing between Reid and the bears. The bears wouldn't dare approach Hotch. They slunk back into the woods, not quite gone, waiting for the time when this man would leave their prey alone again.

Reid was breathing hard as he started to realize where he was. Hotch was holding both of his shoulders, gently shaking him, "Wake up, Spencer. You're having a nightmare. Come on. Wake up."

"Hotch?" Reid was confused but his panic was beginning to subside now. "Wow. Oh, ummm – I'm sorry, Hotch." He was embarrassed at having awoken him.

The older man ignored the apology. He was feeling Reid's forehead for a fever. He felt normal, but just to be certain, he popped the thermometer under the surprised young man's tongue.

"I'm fine, Hotch," he lisped out around the device in his mouth. At the admonishing look he got from his boss, he decided not to push it.

Sure enough, his temperature was normal. Gently, Hotch asked, "You want to tell me what that was all about?"

"Not really," Reid honestly answered keeping his eyes on the quilt.

"It was the bears again, wasn't it?"

Damn, but his boss was perceptive! "Yes, sir. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? About what?" Hotch was genuinely perplexed by the apology.

"About waking you up. It must be the middle of the night." He whispered in answer.

"Spencer, look at me." When he had the young man's full attention, he continued, "I don't ever want you to worry about waking me up or calling when you're upset or need to talk. I will be here for you whenever you need me." Hotch didn't miss the grimace of disbelief that passed briefly over the young man's face. "What's wrong?"

"You're leaving me here alone, for who knows how long."

It was Hotch's turn to grimace, though he hid it well. This nightmare was his fault. He berated himself for not telling Reid earlier. "Spencer, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sending the team without me. I'm sitting this one out too."

Instead of being relieved, Reid shot out, "You can't! Hotch, you can't stay behind just to babysit me. I'll be fine. I'm sorry about the nightmare. I promise I'll be fine. The team needs you. You should be with them." The more he pushed his boss away the more panic he felt that Hotch would take him up on it. He tried to push his rising fears away.

Calmly, Hotch reassured, "I'm not going anywhere, Spencer, so stop trying to get rid of me." He offered a rare smile. "The team can handle this one on their own, and by the time we get another case, you'll be healthy enough to join us." That matter settled, at least in the older man's mind, Hotch asked, "Do you think you can sleep?"

Reid nodded, "Yes, sir." There was underlying guilt in his answer, but if they could tackle the deeper meaning of Reid's dreams on a few more hours of sleep, Hotch believed they would be more productive.

"Okay, lay down then." As the young man silently complied, he finished with, "If you need me, you let me know. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." Again, the guilt was evident.

As he shut out the light and closed the door, Hotch wondered if he was doing the right thing waiting until tomorrow.

**XOXOXOXO**

**Thank you for reading! If you have a second, please let me know what you think. And if you have two seconds, please consider sending a note to Maxandkiz too. **

**I'll try to have the next chapter up in less than a month – but no promises.**


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